Witch
by Piro-san
Summary: The night Voldemort attacked the Potter Family, he was destroyed by an ancient power. Henry Potter was made the Boy-Who-Lived. Believing their youngest, Azalea to be a Squib, they sent her into the muggle world. Trained by the Monastery, Azalea would become: a Witch Hunter. Fem!Harry! Godlike!Harry! Selective Bashing! Rated M - Just in case. Pairing - Fem!Harry x Fleur.
1. Chapter 1

**..::..**

 **So here we are for the first chapter of the rewritten version of Witch. Most of the content will be either similar or the same as the previous chapter one, but I hope that it has better grammar, and flows much better as well.**

 **I understand the need for honest criticism in regards to reviewing but please try to review constructively. I'm okay with a review telling me that they thought a chapter was crap, but at least say** ** _why_** **you thought it was crap.**

 **That's really it, though I have adapted a style that I used with my story Red Eyed Master, in which techniques and spells will be in bold text to differentiate between them.**

 **Here we go.**

 **\^o^/**

 **..::..**

 **I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR WITCH HUNTER ROBIN!**

 **..::..**

"A Witch!" – Speech

'A Witch!' – Thoughts

 **"A Witch!"** – Familiar Speech

 **'A Witch!'** – Familiar Thoughts

 ** _"_** ** _A Witch!"_** – Parseltongue Speech

 ** _'_** ** _A Witch!'_** – Parseltongue Thoughts

 **..::..**

The Second Great Wizarding War had taken its toll on many witches and wizards that called England home. For some, their entire families were destroyed, ripped apart by the conflict that originated from one Dark Lord known as Voldemort. He styled himself after great witches and wizards of old, using their darkest of rituals to grow stronger and more powerful, but that paled in comparison to the might of his greatest foe … Albus Dumbledore.

Albus Dumbledore led the 'Light' as Voldemort led the 'Dark', both were polar opposites of the other, Dumbledore was kind, though strict while Voldemort was ruthless and led by fear. The war was at an impasse, both the forces of good and evil, light and dark were equal in terms of power and skill, but that all changed … for with the whisper of a prophecy, chaos rained down upon both sides. With Dumbledore attempting to discover and then protect the prophesied one, whilst Voldemort attempted to discover and then destroy the one that was rumoured to have the power to destroy him.

'As if the notion was even possible' sneered Voldemort, as he walked the empty and eerie streets in which he traversed, 'I am Lord Voldemort … and I shall rule the Wizarding World while the masses bow to me. This _prophesied_ child is no more than a bug to be squashed under my boot.'

He paused in his journey as his red eyed gaze swept over the quaint little cottage that acted as a safe house. Located in Godric's Hollow, the safe house sheltered the elusive Potter Family. The Potter Family was one of the two families that were held in debate for the prophecy … the other family was the Longbottom Family.

Voldemort sneered viciously at the thought; despite being Purebloods, the Longbottom Family was pathetic, and while the current Lord and Lady were Aurors and well versed in duelling; they had allowed themselves to become stagnant … after all; their last duel was absolutely pitiful.

Nevertheless, he tasked his most trusted servants, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, her husband Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange her brother-in-law, and Barty Crouch Jr. to search for them so that if by the off chance that one of the Potter children managed to _not_ be the subject of the prophecy; he would have the location of the Longbottom's child as the only other possible candidate.

The Potters on the other hand were a continuous thorn in his side; Lord James Potter was amazingly well versed in duelling _and_ a master of unconventional tactics. His Mastery in Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts were almost on par with his own skill in the subjects, and while not as experienced as Dumbledore or himself, he was catching up. Give him thirty or so years and he _could_ be as good as either of them.

Then there was his wife, Lady Lilian Potter.

Most thought she was a muggleborn witch, but his spy's research proved otherwise … her line was descendant of Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, a truly formidable Bloodline to inherit, but it explained her ability to grasp the most complex spells and rituals with seamless ease.

What concerned him the most about her line though, was the relation to Lord Salazar Slytherin.

It appeared that Lord Slytherin and Lady Ravenclaw had a previously unknown marriage, and the result of such a union was in fact; a squib. Lady Ravenclaw had been married before and had given birth to a daughter, and it was that daughter, that went on to despise her mother for falling in love with Lord Slytherin. With her union to Lord Slytherin she had no choice but to dispel her second born child into the Muggle world … as was tradition then, and still to that day.

Sadly, Rowena Ravenclaw discovered that she had the ability and strength of magic to perhaps have another single child. Lady Ravenclaw had been dismayed by the discovery, but after realising that Lord Slytherin was not swayed by such news, she overcame her despair and tried again.

The results weren't encouraging and Lord Slytherin had to comfort his wife for years as they tried for another child. Eventually, after almost twenty years after the abandonment of their first child, they discovered that she was pregnant again. They were overjoyed by the news, and life had returned to the dimming castle where they lived. However, fate had other plans … as that was when tragedy struck them.

Lord Slytherin and Lady Ravenclaw, along with their friends and co-founders Lord Godric Gryffindor and Lady Helga Hufflepuff were attacked by former students who had turned to the Dark Arts. These Dark Arts were mostly lost to time now but they were known by another name back in the Founder's time. The Darkest of Arts, at that time, was simply called 'The Craft'.

The Four Founders had eventually destroyed the original Dark Coven that called their form of magic 'The Craft', and then laid down the foundation for a school that they later named Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the ashes of their foes.

When it was later discovered that children, who were born of Magic, were being persecuted by the non-magicals … they knew that they had to act. They immediately began to search and rescue these children born of magic, so that they could learn to harness and control their powers.

All was right with the world, until a group of students that were called 'randoms', who were later referred to as muggleborns stumbled upon a Grimoire that once belonged to a witch that was a member of the Dark Coven. They ignored the Founders and their warnings and delved into the Grimoire … deeper and deeper they dove into the Grimoire and soon, they fell prey to their own desire for power. They became monsters, twisted and corrupted by the promise of power that the Grimoire offered, and they let that power consume them.

They ignited a war between the students and the Founders, a war that threatened to break through the veil of secrecy that the Founders had erected in order to protect their students. In the end, the Founders were forced to put down the same children that they once cared for so dearly, but it was during the battle that Lady Ravenclaw was struck down by the Dark Coven's new leader, her wounds were too many, and she soon died along with her unborn child.

Lord Slytherin was enraged by their actions and summoned his great familiar, a gigantic Basilisk. He and his familiar annihilated their ex-student's forces without mercy, and without giving _any_ quarter.

When the carnage was over, Lord Slytherin became close to a hermit, his grief for the loss of his life's partner fuelled his existence and it changed him … eventually, he grew the desire to control or regulate the future muggleborn students, so that they could prevent a repeat of the events that took his wife from him.

Lord Slytherin didn't even try to move on, his attempts to reconnect with the changing world were only half-hearted if he revealed himself to the masses of new students.

Lord Gryffindor and Lady Hufflepuff worked together to try to bring their friend, Lord Slytherin back from his personal hell, but were unable to do anything to save their friend. Lord Slytherin ended up being ensnared by a love potion, one that saw him sleeping with a noble woman from a related family that went by the last name of Gaunt. Once he discovered this; he sunk further into depression and wallowed there until his end as he too soon departed the mortal world to go to his beloved wife.

Lord Gryffindor and Lady Hufflepuff had become close in their efforts and they later wed in secret so that their still living enemies would have an extra reason to attack Hogwarts or their remaining students. The two were eventually blessed by magic, when Lady Hufflepuff gave birth to two healthy baby boys, who possessed unfathomably strong magic. In their desperation to keep their children a secret, they gave them the last names Potter and Longbottom.

The eldest son inherited the mantle of Lord Gryffindor, whilst the younger inherited the mantle of Lord Hufflepuff. Lady Helga Hufflepuff passed away painlessly a day before her husband, who passed the next day … it was a testament to their devotion to each other.

Voldemort hissed to himself … to think that there was a relative that held a stronger claim to the Slytherin Title. The very thought filled him with rage but he nevertheless, continued his mental evaluation of the Potter Family.

Lady Lilian Potter was an acclaimed Potion's Mistress and a prodigy in Charms, she had yet to get her Mastery in Charms but it was only a piece of enchanted paper in the end … it was her skills that decided and she had those skills in spades. When she teamed up with her husband James, they formed a truly formidable team that gave much more than they took.

Voldemort halted, he lifted his gaze towards the roof of the cottage and observed the powerful magic that _should've_ kept him at bay.

"Oh look … Blood Wards, this is very old magic!" Voldemort murmured in surprise "The magic is still fresh, not a month old by my estimate … oh Dumbledore, how foolish you are. To believe that mere Blood Wards and the Fidelius Charm could keep me away from your precious Potter Family."

A wave of Voldemort's wand shattered the Blood Wards in an instant, like they were nothing; the Fidelius Charm was of no consequence since his newest minion had revealed the location to him.

'Ah, Wormtail … you have served your purpose perfectly.' Voldemort thought, soon there would be no prophecy child and Dumbledore would bow to him.

Dark Lord Voldemort walked with a silent grace as he stepped cautiously through the shattered wards that once protected the safe house located in Godric's Hollow. This excursion was proving to be rather exciting. Blood Wards, a Fidelius Charm … these were things that Voldemort rarely witnessed, so it was a pleasant change from ordering his servants, otherwise known as Death Eaters, from his throne.

Voldemort's thoughts were broken as he stopped in front of the front door, he lazily waved his wand over the wood to detect any jinxes or hexes and found himself frowning when he found none. All that running about and they hadn't bothered to ward their door?

'How disappointing,' Voldemort sighed, as he blasted the door off of its hinges with barely contained glee.

Immediately he was under fire and quickly yet gracefully dodged the **Reducto** that was aimed at his head. Voldemort flawlessly countered with his own **Reducto,** he was exceptionally pleased when a sickening crunch was heard and he joyously glanced to his left.

There he spotted the late Charlus Potter, James Potter's father. Charlus had been blasted into the wall and was missing half of his torso as a result. Shrugging to himself, he followed the shuffling noises upstairs and wasted no time in disposing of Charlus Potter's wife Dorea Potter nee Black with a **Cutting Curse**. Voldemort sneered at her corpse in disgust … the entire Black Family but she and Sirius Black followed him, 'Such a disappointment to their Family's name.'

Moments later, as her cold, lifeless body slumped to the floor he approached the children that she had died to protect … all the while tutting his disappointment.

'Truly a pity that they had to die' Voldemort sighed tiredly 'For purebloods to fall so far … at least I ended their pathetic existence before they fell too far.'

Turning to a sudden wailing sound, he eyed the prize that he'd come to claim.

There in a single but large crib were two toddlers, a boy and a girl. They were the children of James and Lily Potter and were named Henry Charlus Potter and Azalea Dorea Potter. The eldest was Henry and Voldemort soon discovered the source of the noise, as Henry was the one that wailed pathetically at him.

Voldemort sneered and with a wave of his wand, scanned the child. Henry _did_ have potential to be powerful provided he had the right training, though he would only be slightly more powerful than others of his generation.

It was then his gaze travelled to the younger twin, Azalea. Voldemort had to blink as he gazed upon her.

'Is this child truly a Potter?' Voldemort questioned himself mentally.

The reason for the confusion was because, ironically, Azalea did not resemble either her parents or her twin in anyway.

If anything she looked like a Black and eerily close to Bellatrix in appearance … before her wedding to the Lestrange Family anyway, but he digressed. The girl, Azalea, simply stared him down with her green eyes that seemed to glow with something unseen, and Voldemort actually found himself pausing before scanning her like her twin before her. Voldemort's eyes widened in fear at the results and he took a step backwards.

'Her magical signature was as strong as mine is, and that meant as strong as Dumbledore's _and_ she was only a baby. If she is allowed to grow and harness that power properly …' his mind went blank at the thought, this wasn't a child! No, she was a monster with power to match him _before_ any training, and before she had even reached her magical maturity.

"I should just dispose of them both and call it a night," he whispered, as if someone was listening "After all, they can't give me any trouble if they're dead!"

Voldemort raised his wand and uttered the most feared of the Unforgivable Curses: The Killing Curse.

" **Avada Kedavra!** " he cried victoriously.

He watched on with barely contained joy as the beam of sickly green traversed the distance between the two children with alarming speed, but that was when his plan went sideways. Just as the spell was about to strike, young Azalea's eyes suddenly glowed and took a lighter shade of green that mimicked the Killing Curse's own colour. A wind picked up out of nowhere and howled through the room, its force blowing furniture over with resounding crashes, this wind however, left both Henry and Azalea alone and safe from the destruction.

It seemed over for a split second.

But then, a haunting but beautiful spiral of Avada Kedavra coloured green fire suddenly erupted out of nothingness. It spun protectively around the two children and absorbed the Killing Curse before deflecting it at double its original speed and power. Voldemort had no warning, and certainly no chance to dodge before the curse struck true. A shockwave, much like a sonic boom, exploded as the curse impacted with the now dying Dark Lord.

As the mystical fires waivered and flickered wildly, young Henry was struck by a stray piece of glass – it left a nasty gash that was strangely reminiscent of a snake on his right cheek.

Azalea was also struck, but it was by a shard of Voldemort's own soul that had tried to escape his disintegrating body. It left a mark that resembled a rune of power on her forehead and the power within her surged in anger. She'd later learn that Voldemort's dying soul attempted to latch onto her own body and magic, but what it didn't count on was that young Azalea's magic was of an ancient bloodline, far older than many bloodlines and it didn't take kindly to the soul shard's attempt to harm its mistress. Azalea's magic let the shard attach itself firmly, right before it attacked. Her magic absorbed the shard into itself, and with the absorption of the shard, her own, ancient power evolved

Azalea's magic took into itself the knowledge of the greatest dark witch/wizard since the Dark Coven of old.

All Voldemort bore witness to in his final moment, right before his very last breath, was an angry surge of the same green fire viciously engulf him. He felt himself burn … both from the outside but from the inside as well. The searing green flames completely destroyed both his body and soul and then all he knew was darkness … the once Dark Lord Voldemort had been destroyed.

Voldemort was dead – gone from the mortal realm.

Young Azalea's outward magic, now sated in defending its young Mistress calmed slowly until it settled completely. Inside her body however, her magic worked like crazy … trying to assimilate the knowledge granted by the soul shard of Dark Lord Voldemort – this allowed its Mistress's brain to learn and retain the entirety of his accumulated knowledge.

The mental strain caused young Azalea to collapse, and for several minutes or so, her small body shook and was wrought with spasm attacks. Once the shard had been completely assimilated, her body calmed but her magical signature however, began flaring wildly. It lasted for a few extra minutes before her body succumbed to magical exhaustion and fell still.

 **..::..**

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, or more commonly known simply as Dumbledore, was hosting the current Order of the Phoenix meeting in his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – as he was the Headmaster of the establishment.

Albus Dumbledore was an old wizard, in fact he was 100 years old, and considering that he survived the last Wizarding World War and that was a pretty good age. He was known as the Leader of the Light for his efforts in defeating the last Dark Lord … Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald. The battle between the two was intense, and lasted a total of 14 hours before Dumbledore was victorious … though he never truly felt victorious as he'd just defeated his one and only love.

The fact that Dumbledore won was incredible as at the time, Gellert possessed the Elder Wand. The wand's lore was shrouded in mystery and blood shed but it was a wand of unfathomable power. Rumoured to be the greatest wand in existence, it was crafted by death himself and given to one of the Peverell brothers, who beat death by crossing an uncross-able river that was protected by death.

For each brother was granted a gift from death for outwitting him, these artefacts were later known as the Deathly Hallows as a result. Each item was passed down from family to family over the years and even the Potters possessed one of the Hallows: the Cloak of Invisibility.

Dumbledore digressed though, by disarming his lover and blasting him away, the wand's allegiance was transferred to him … he said transferred but it was more like he was forced to take the responsibility to act as the Elder Wand's caretaker until it found its one and true owner … someone who the wand belonged to completely and forever, and once it had found its true master/mistress, it'd forever remain loyal to him/her.

For quite some time, Dumbledore feared using the Elder Wand's power, for it was so _pure_ in its essence and the magic that it provided was like a drug. The Elder Wand, before transferring to Gellert, was in the possession of a great and indeed dark witch named Methuselah. He wasn't sure if she was Dark per say, but her power was so thick and raw that she exuded an aura of danger.

Methuselah: The Everlasting Witch. She was rumoured to be at least 700 years old, far older than any witch or wizard that existed in their world today, but it was her connection to magic that scared those in power. Her connection to the Old Magic was so powerful that with a single rune, she could bring down armies and with a single wordless spell, she could open the gates to the spiritual plane and unleash untold horrors into the world.

If he was honest, Azalea Potter possessed a similar aura about her. As unnerving as her appearance was in regards to the similarities to Bellatrix, Azalea's magic reeked of raw magic … raw and _pure_ power that he had only witnessed once. It was during a demonstration of power, courtesy of a young nun by the name of Robin Senna. Her ability to cleanse and purify corrupt magic was unseen before and her flames were made of pure magic, something that Dumbledore and Voldemort could only dream of learning, but alas … it was impossible as it required a certain type of magic and blood.

Blood that he believed had manifested in Azalea. Dumbledore had yet to inform her parents of his suspicions but he'd carefully watch her grow … just to be safe. The nun, Robin, was a part of an organization called 'The Monastery" … professional Witch Hunters that existed long before the DMLE or the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and they terminated their targets showing no mercy.

The last he heard of the unique Witch was that she'd been assigned a mission from the Department of Mysteries, in conjunction with her own employers, the Monastery, to track Methuselah and eliminate her.

Robin Senna had never been seen since then.

A young man by the name of Gregorovitch took possession of the Wand, and that was later stolen by his ex-lover Gellert Grindelwald. It was now in his possession and Dumbledore was actually glad that he hadn't found the wand's true owner, as the power was indescribable.

Suddenly, the alarms from his many devices and artefacts screamed at the Order members, he was instantly on alert and diagnosed the problem effortlessly.

Dumbledore gasped and immediately snapped his gaze to Lily and James Potter and informed them of the ward's destruction. Before Dumbledore could blink, the Order members scrambled to action, they all Flooed to their safe zones and then apparated to the Potter's safe house in Godric's Hollow.

When they all arrived on the scene, Sirius Black was already there with his wand trained on a shaking Peter Pettigrew – Sirius' wand pressed against Peter's exposed neck. Being the Potter Family's secret keeper, Peter was cursing his own stupidity at coming to check on his Master and to witness the dawn of a new age in the Wizarding World.

If only he'd been paying attention and not whimpering over his master's wand!

 **..::..**

Sirius Orion Black was the official Godfather to the Potter Twins. The moment Lily and James had asked him if he wanted the job, Sirius was overjoyed. Sirius was a member of the infamous Black Family. The Family's roots could be traced back to the days of Merlin, though their history was clouded in mystery – they'd never discovered who their true ancestor was, but the rumour was that it was Lady Morgana LeFay. Unfortunately, with that revelation, came the reputation of belonging to the Dark.

If only it was just in reputation, for the Black Family _was_ of the Dark. The Family had dabbled too deeply into the Dark Arts and their entire Family Line was forever cursed to belong to the Dark. Their entire Bloodline was gifted towards using and performing the Dark Arts, and as such they were easily corrupted by them. In fact … Sirius, his elder sister Andromeda Tonks nee Black and his elder brother Regulus Black were perhaps the first since the curse to display magic that was not born from the family's curse. Andromeda fell in love with a Muggleborn named Ted, and they eloped – resulting in her banishment from the Family. He was genuinely happy for his elder sister – she found happiness and even worked with the Order to heal the injured. Regulus though … he eventually fell to the Dark as well and died before Sirius could try to help his elder brother. It was one of Sirius' greatest regrets, that he couldn't help his now dead brother.

So when Sirius had been asked by the Potters to be their children's Godfather … it was the happiest day in his life. He discovered that he was sterile, and unable to Sire an heir to the Black Family, not that he was upset in that regard – the only thing he _was_ upset about was not feeling the same joy that was plastered on James' face … that he could never be a father himself. The reason he was relieved to be sterile was that he couldn't condemn another to the Black Family Curse.

Sirius intended to name Azalea, heiress of the family. Not only due to her looks, but with Henry being the elder twin, he'd inherit the Potter Family Headship when James died. Azalea would receive a stipend from the fortune of their family but nothing more unless she married. Worse still, the Potter Family _did_ have Marriage Contracts pouring in from all over England, France and many other countries as the other families _also_ knew this.

If she inherited from him though …the Back Family, with no other heir after his death, would finally be free from the curse of their ancestors … and Azalea could achieve her own dreams without relying on her family's own money and would dodge being forced into a marriage against her wishes.

His family … free from the curse on their blood … there was a reason for him to mention that.

He'd never told Lily and James before, but there was something … _different_ about Azalea's magic. It all started with a whisper, his blood whispering to stay away from the 'pure' child. He didn't know what his blood meant but as Azalea grew older, his blood's whispers became stronger … his cursed blood was weary of Azalea and her 'pure' magic. He spent many months studying possible reasons and he finally found a piece of parchment so old, that it was almost about to crumble to dust. It was written by their ancestor before preservation spells were made, but what was readable was that their ancestor's blood, their cursed blood feared the Old Arcane Magic, otherwise known as the Craft. It wasn't clear why, but _true_ and _untainted_ craft users performed magic _so_ powerful and pure, that it cleansed the Dark.

If Azalea had inherited even a tiny portion of that power then the Black Family would be forever free from their curse!

In fact, what he hadn't told Lily and James yet, was that the paperwork was already done, and she was officially Heiress Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. He was waiting for the right time to reveal his plan to his friends and when they were older, his godchildren.

As the Godfather to young Azalea and Henry he took part in a binding ritual that bound him to his godchildren until their death or his own. So when the ritual he undertook warned him of the danger that his Godson and Goddaughter were in, he instantly dropped everything and apparated to Godric's Hollow, where he found Peter whimpering and muttering over a wand and cloak that were unmistakably Voldemort's belongings.

He stunned the already unresponsive man and he rushed inside the crumbling house. He heard a child wailing upstairs and after running to the source he found his two godchildren. Henry was balling his eyes out, a nasty gash on his right cheek and Azalea was out like a light, blood pouring from her forehead. Instantly he rushed forward and banished debris in his way, he then banished the blood on their faces and used a small healing charm on them.

He sighed in relief but once the blood was gone, he immediately noticed the scars and he gasped; the prophecy!

He took both children and wrapped them in their blankets that were amazingly unharmed by the level of sheer destruction in the room, he then raced back down the stairs and out of the house as quickly as he could. He made the right decision as less than a minute after leaving with the two babies, the house collapsed and came down with a resounding crash … leaving nothing but a wall and a tiny section of roof standing.

Sirius wasted no time and hastily transfigured a nearby log into a crib. Placing both children who were now both sleeping comfortably inside, he turned his wand back on Peter … he didn't want the rat to transform or escape, so he quickly erected an anti-animagius ward over Peter's body and placed his wand under the twitching rat's jaw.

He tensed briefly when he heard the sound of apparition but relaxed as he felt the familiar magical signatures of the Order of the Phoenix.

 **..::..**

James and Lily Potter were hysterical once they'd been informed that the wards that protected their children and James' parents had been destroyed. They apparated to Godric's Hollow as quickly as they could, but the first thing they noticed upon their arrival was the ruins of their safe house.

"James … the children!" Lily all but shrieked "Where are they? Where are my babies?"

"Calm down Lily" James replied soothingly and quickly continued once Lily's infamous glare, a precursor to her equally infamous temper, was aimed at him "They're over there with Padfoot!"

Lily Potter whipped her head around and ran up to the children in their makeshift crib. She choked on a sob and fell to her knees in relief at their peaceful faces. James was instantly behind her for support and it was together that they noticed the scar on Henry's right cheek.

"W-What is this?" Lily gasped "Oh my precious baby boy, who did this to you?"

James' eyes narrowed dangerously and he cast a subtle detection spell around the property. His eyes widened seconds later as his scan came back identifying the corpses of his parents. Tears silently slid down his face, whoever had done this had murdered his parents, he was now only one of three Potters by blood … and that hurt more than his heart could take. James slid down and sat silently by the crib that Sirius had transfigured, he glanced to Lily and noticed her fussing over the twins … he'd wait to tell her, he'd let her feel the joy of being reunited with their children.

He shifted his gaze to his children and stared at them, scrutinizing their appearance and looking for any hidden injuries. His glasses helped, as they, like Madam Bones' Monocle and Alastor Moody's fake eye, were charmed to see through illusions and detect hidden enchantments. He noticed a curious fluctuation in Azalea's body, her magic was all but gone, as if drained somehow. James clenched his hand into a fist and quickly scanned Henry. There was nothing amiss with him but _something_ was wrong with Azalea … for there to be little to no magic left in her tiny body was suspicious, and it begged the question that everyone was already thinking.

'What the hell happened here?'

Dumbledore watched as James silently wept for his parents, it wasn't lost on the Headmaster that neither Charlus or Dorea were present – he'd actually performed a similar detection spell before James had, and it saddened him to know that two of his dearest friends had passed through the veil.

Dumbledore plastered a smile on his face and watched on with a forced twinkle in his eye as he approached the reunited family. However, the moment Dumbledore took out the Elder Wand to check them over it pulsed uncomfortably in his hand, he blinked and observed the Elder Wand closely … it was rejecting him and reacting to one of the twins so he pushed it closer and like a piece of metal being attracted to a magnet it all but shot out of his hand's tight grip and fell onto the youngest twin: Azalea Dorea Potter.

Dumbledore frowned momentarily, he always understood that he was merely a caretaker for the wand until it chose its rightful owner but he had hoped that it would never react to anyone whilst he was still alive and now that the Elder Wand _had_ chosen its rightful owner. He sighed and withdrew his original wand to complete the scan … his eyes widened dramatically and glanced over to Sirius, who nodded uncertainly, so the prophecy was accurate and it was one of the twins that had accomplished in defeating the Dark Lord.

Scanning them more thoroughly he discovered a surprising amount of magic in Henry but it wasn't potent just powerful … he moved to scan Azalea and furrowed his brow when he sensed absolutely nothing coming from the youngest Potter twin, oh there was a strong essence of the same odd magic that he'd already sensed from the girl, but the magic core scan gave nothing. Sighing he relayed the information to the Lord and Lady Potter and they silently absorbed the information before glancing down at their children grimly … if Azalea had no traces of magic at all, then that made her a squib and if she was a squib then that meant that Henry was the child of prophecy: Henry had defeated Voldemort.

James eyed his wife cautiously, she was smothering a now wide awake Henry with kisses and praising him for defeating the Dark Lord, but he was no slouch in wand lore himself and he had witnessed the actions of the Elder Wand. It had chosen _Azalea_ and a wand _never_ chose somebody that couldn't wield it … if Azalea had no traces of magic in her core then that could just be exhaustion from the attack.

James thought deeply, he knew about the true essence of magic, the craft, but could it be possible that his youngest child, his precious daughter … had inherited that power? If that was the case then the Elder Wand was drawn to something _more_ than just ordinary magic. He took another glance at Lily and watched as she doted on both of the twins, it would change, he knew but he so desperately wanted to keep things as they were … if Henry _was_ the chosen one, then poor Azalea would be left alone whilst they trained him for the future.

'What am I going to do?' thought James morosely.

James was snapped out of his thoughts by the approaching Headmaster, who had looked as though he'd aged 50 years or so in the last 5 minutes, he expressed his concerns for letting Azalea go and listened as James gave his own opinion of the matter.

"I know what your wand was Headmaster" James whispered to the old man "I _know_ that it's the Elder Wand and I know that it has now chosen my sweet Azalea as an owner and if that's true then there's no way in hell that she's a squib!"

"I would have agreed with you James" Dumbledore nodded whilst replying to further cement his own thoughts before continuing "I must admit to being curious about your youngest child, Azalea for quite some time … she does not resemble any in your family tree aside from having Lily's eyes but even they're different … I believed that your child possessed a power that has been unseen for so long and I admit to being clueless on how to proceed as the scans that I have just performed are NEVER wrong and there's not an ounce of magic within her. Perhaps it would be best to place her with another family or relative, maybe even Petunia, Lily's sister."

James raised an eyebrow and looked deeply into the Headmaster's eyes before hissing angrily at the man "Are you actually asking me to _abandon_ my daughter to the Muggle world because you should know that Potters never abandon their own!"

Dumbledore instantly raised his hands in alarm "No … No my boy; that's not what I'm asking you to do … I'm merely saying that we should observe Azalea in a muggle environment and see if there's any trace of magic within her … it would be cruel to allow her to remain in the Magical World if the scans are indeed correct and that she has no magic at all within her."

James Potter glared at the man for a few minutes but eventually nodded with a broken expression "Fine, place her with the Dursleys but if there's even the slightest hint of magic … you WILL retrieve her without argument … _understood?_ "

The Headmaster nodded and moved to leave when James asked something more "And the Elder Wand? What will you do … the wand chose Azalea"

"The Elder Wand will not leave its Mistress's side regardless of wards or protections" Dumbledore replied "The wand will have to go with young Azalea and it wouldn't matter anyway my boy. That wand will now be useless to anyone but her … assuming that she can use it when the time comes."

With that Dumbledore turned and walked back to the crib where a now awake Azalea watched the Headmaster curiously, he chuckled at her innocence and gently picked her up, the Elder Wand instantly vanishing to Merlin knows where.

"I'm ever so sorry little one" Dumbledore muttered sadly "I swear to you that if this _is_ a mistake and you do possess magic, then I will find you and bring you home."

Dumbledore vanished with a 'POP' and appeared at the residence of the Dursley Family, he hesitated slightly before sighing sadly and gently placing the child on the doorstep. He placed a signed letter to the family on Azalea's blanket and chanced a fleeting glance at her … he would never forget the young innocent gaze that silently asked 'why?' for the rest of his life.

 **..::..**

When Vernon and Petunia Dursley woke the next morning and found their niece on their doorstep, they understandably freaked out but in their haste to hide the child, the letter that was on her blanket had fallen off and was mistaken for junk mail … therefore it went into their garbage without a second thought.

Vernon and Petunia recognised the girl of course, they had cosied up to the Potters in an attempt to get a chance at their fortune but behind closed doors they hated the freaks and now their freak of a daughter was silently watching them with her freaky eyes.

"I won't stand for this Pet." Vernon growled angrily "What did that freak of a sister call freaks that were born into freak families with no freakishness? Squids?"

"It's 'Squib' sweetie" she corrected promptly before shrieking loudly "And if Lily thinks that we're going to raise their freak of a daughter because she isn't freakish enough for them then they have another thing coming!"

Vernon nodded and they spent the next 30 minutes deciding where to put the child, they were almost ready to just throw her into an orphanage when an idea struck Vernon.

"Pet … what about that Monastery in the city?" he asked and at seeing her questioning gaze he elaborated "It's out of the way _and_ they'll definitely rid the brat of her freakish ways."

Petunia thought on it before a grin broke out on her horse-like face; it was perfect, let the religious fanatics deal with the freak … history showed what they did to _its_ kind.

"What an amazing idea Vernon" she gushed loudly "You're so smart, that's why you're going to be promoted to supervisor!"

Vernon puffed up under her praise and grunted in a pleased manner, they then left the toddler alone and went to eat breakfast. They never noticed that some of their knickknacks were floating around the child as she gazed intensely at them.

Once they'd finished their breakfast, Petunia fed her own child, Dudley before they packed up the car and drove into London. Vernon did get lost several times along the way so he was relieved when he saw the Monastery. He stepped on the gas and it wasn't long before he pulled up at the entrance. He grunted before yanking the young girl out of the boot of their car and carelessly dumped her onto the steps … he then rang the bell before running back to the car and zooming off as quickly as the car would go.

 **..::..**

The large solid door to the Monastery opened and an ancient looking woman stepped out, her grey hair swayed in the slight breeze as she came face to face with a beautiful green eyed child … but where were her parents? Judging from the dirt and smell she'd say non-existent if they refused to look after her.

She sighed to herself before muttering about calling child services when the strangest thing happened … a wand appeared out of nowhere and landed on the child. The woman gasped, she knew that wand only too well.

You see this was _the_ Monastery and it was actually a hidden sanctuary for Witches and Wizards … not the usual kind either, these witches were of old magic, the kind that usually never required a wand. They still used wands for various spells or charms, but they were mostly cosmetic to the inhabitants of the ancient building.

The old woman would know that wand from anywhere though, it had many names after all, but when she was younger she worked as a Witch Hunter. Back then, when she worked as an Operative of the Top Secret Order, it was known simply as Methuselah's Shard. It was an object that the Monastery wanted to be kept under lock and key until its proper wielder had been found. The devastation that single wand had caused throughout history was unbelievable, and all because it had no true owner, only caretakers … caretakers such as Methuselah.

The DoM or the Department of Mysteries from the new English Government also wanted their target Methuselah eliminated, so a joint mission was assigned to her and her partner to track and eliminate the one known as the Everlasting Witch.

The mission was almost complete when the Unspeakable Operative that had been assigned to the mission along with her and her partner, betrayed them. He took Methuselah's Shard after disarming and injuring the elderly witch, and turned that powerful wand on them. They managed to escape with their target, and found a Monastery safe house where they laid low until they found safe passage from Japan.

She hadn't counted on being betrayed by the Unspeakables and their plan was simple: with the aid of their target who had survived, they faked their death and fled, with her partner, a squib named Amon using muggle means to aid them. They later recontacted the Monastery and informed them of the DoM's betrayal. It caused the Monastery to close its doors to the English Government and operate in secret.

They returned to England and hid at the Monastery whilst trying to discover why they were betrayed … when it was obvious that the answers wouldn't be discovered they continued to stay at the Monastery and worked on improving themselves. They fell in love and were married in their new home by the head of the Sanctuary, Amon taking her last name as his was unknown, and it was soon after that they had a daughter, who they had named Lilian.

It was then however that they realised that they had no way to care for their child, so with a heavy heart they asked the Monastery's caretaker for help. The caretaker was an older man, his name was George Evans and he and his wife had been trying to have another child for a quite some time, he and his wife already had a toddler, a girl named Petunia and wanted another. George informed them that they didn't even care if the child was a witch, as long as they found more joy in their lives then it wouldn't matter.

It was with a sad kiss goodbye that they gave their only daughter to George and Robin begged him to care for her … he reassured her that he would and he left. She never saw her daughter again and it cut her deeply every time she thought back on her beautiful red-haired daughter. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she gazed warily at the wand, here in England it was known as the Elder Wand and it was now resting on a baby girl's bundled form.

The baby girl possessed eyes like her daughter's only this child's eyes held unfathomable power. If this child was the new owner of this wand then she had to have the power of ancient witches and wizards pulsing in her veins.

She muttered a silent spell and gazed upon the child with eyes of old, a spell taught to her by Methuselah herself for 'when the time was right' and she gasped … the child was _overflowing_ with the powers of old … for a child to possess so much power should be impossible!

Robin gained a resolved look in her eyes before she bent down and picked up the child and the wand.

"You shall learn to be a true Witch" she whispered to the toddler "And I will be your new mother … I am Robin … Robin Senna."

She looked deep into the baby's eyes and smiled softly, the baby mimicked her actions and gurgled happily to the older woman. Robin spotted the faded name on her dirty baby blanket.

"Azalea … Dorea … Po … Pot?" she tried to read before turning her gaze to the curious child "Your name is Azalea Dorea Senna!"

With that, Robin turned and walked back into the Monastery to show her husband their new child.

 **..::..**

 **There we are … all done. I do apologise for the long wait as I know that I promised its release sooner. I'm not going to explain** ** _why_** **this time, just that it's a personal matter. As you can see, the general flow of the story remained, but I've added necessary information and I've eased up on Lily's attitude towards Azalea after the news was delivered.**

 **..::..**

 **PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 **..::..**

 **\^o^/**


	2. Chapter 2

**..::..**

 **Phew, at last we have arrived at Chapter 02 of Witch … sorry it took so long. =_=**

 **Anyhow, the POLL is still up and will end on the release of the third chapter of the story. So next chapter, the POLL will close and the pairing will be final. I originally planned to have Azalea emerge during the events of the Chamber of Secrets, but I've instead decided to have her appear during the events of the Prisoner of Azkaban. It'll meld better and introduce the POLL Winner's Family.**

 **At the moment Fleur is winning the POLL so it looks to be a Female Harry x Fleur pairing … if you haven't voted … best to do so soon as next chapter it'll be closed.**

 **I should also like to point out that I know next to nothing about guns, so if I make a mistake then I'm sorry. Azalea will NOT use guns, but her guardian Amon the Squib does.**

 **I've also made the age for 1** **st** **year Hogwarts Students 12 … deal with it.**

 **That is all, please enjoy the chapter. :D**

 **..::..**

 **I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR WITCH HUNTER ROBIN!**

 **..::..**

"A Witch!" – Speech

'A Witch!' – Thoughts

 **"A Witch!"** – Familiar Speech

 **'A Witch!'** – Familiar Thoughts

 ** _"_** ** _A Witch!"_** – Parseltongue Speech

 ** _'_** ** _A Witch!'_** – Parseltongue Thoughts

 **..::..**

The night was cool and the winds blew gently across the Cathedral like building of the Monastery, its size dwarfing the surrounding buildings – but strangely, no one noticed its location. **[AN1]**

Inside a particular room in this monstrous building, a door slowly creaked open and a small, silent shadow easily passed through the small opening. Amon Senna was instantly awake, and gripping the handle of his SIG Sauer P226 MK25 under his pillow. The shadow grew closer and Amon tensed, prepared for any attack … only to hear a sniffle. Sighing tiredly, Amon let go of the handgun and turned to the only person he knew that could sniffle and pull his heartstrings in such a manner … his adopted five year old daughter, Azalea Dorea Senna. Despite the rather large gap in their ages, he and his wife, Robin Senna had instantly fallen for the green eyed girl and had adopted her without pause.

"Father, I had _that_ nightmare again," Azalea sniffled softly. "That man with the glowing red eyes was in it."

"Azalea," he began, though he swallowed when she turned her expressive killing curse green coloured eyes to his own obsidian black coloured ones. "That evil man is dead, he can't hurt you Azalea."

Azalea shook her head petulantly and pouted. "He isn't dead! I just _know_ it - he's delved too deeply into Dark Soul Magic … the kind that there's no returning from father. Mother agrees with me and even mentioned something about the 'Seeds of the Craft' but wouldn't say more. You _know_ that I want to be just like mother and hunt the bad witches and wizards."

Amon's eyes instantly darkened with a serious expression. "Explain just _how_ you know about that."

Azalea shrunk slightly under her father's gaze, but wasted no time as she proceeded to inform him of her mother's theories and then her own. Amon hummed thoughtfully – it wasn't lost on either of the newly adopted parents that Azalea could speak _and_ comprehend knowledge that far exceeded her age. It was as if her mind was that of an expert in the Dark Arts. Their suspicions were later proven correct when Robin had performed a ritual to read Azalea's soul.

Azalea's soul was still that of a child, but the density of the magic in her soul was that of a wizened mage – one that was exceptionally experienced and _unfathomably_ powerful, particularly in the Dark Arts. Robin later discovered that the mutated magical signature that had been forcibly merged with her adopted daughter's once belonged to the former Dark Lord, known as Voldemort.

Amon hummed in thought before spotting his wife walking into the room with a weary smile on her old face.

"The same nightmares again flower?" Robin asked gently.

At the call of her parent's nickname for her she perked up and turned to her mother. "Yes mother, it was the same nightmare again … the same nightmare as always."

"Come along then Azalea," she spoke tenderly. "I'll read you a story to help you sleep."

Azalea couldn't run fast enough to her room, her mother's stories were amazing and tales of her parent's adventures never failed to leave her in awe of her parents, or the foes that they had taken down together. Robin laughed softly at her daughter's speedy retreat and moved to follow when Amon's voice stopped her.

"She wants to be a hunter Robin," he spoke seriously. "An actual Witch Hunter. Our stories have inspired her to become us."

Robin frowned and listened as Amon relayed the conversation that he had just finished with their daughter, by the end Robin's frown had morphed into a look of indifference.

"I guess that it's time that we started her training then," Robin muttered and held up a hand to stop her husband from interrupting. "We both know that her magic is FAR stronger than that of my own and the powers of old have awakened within her. She _must_ learn the true essence of the original craft if she is to overcome her future enemies."

Amon sighed and Robin mirrored the action seconds later, the silence was comforting to the both of them before Amon spoke once more. "Alright, we'll begin her training starting tomorrow morning. If anything, it'll prove entertaining – I trust that _the wand_ is still nearby?"

Robin nodded. "Yes, it hasn't left its Mistress's side. Though we still have to bind it to her with the Old Rites for it to truly belong to Azalea."

At the mention of the Old Rites Amon grew pensive. "That means that our time is nearing its end, Azalea will be heartbroken when she finds out."

Robin gently placed her hand on Amon's shoulder in comfort. "Our time has come and gone. The history and essence of the Craft is in her hands now, just as it was in mine after the Japan Incident."

Amon sighed again and looked towards the wall that separated their room from their daughter's. He silently contemplated his answer before turning to his beloved wife. "I-I just wanted her to have more from us other than lessons in how to hunt witches and wizards."

Robin inhaled sharply and looked down to the floor in deep thought.

"I understand my love, really I do but what can we ..." Robin's eyes widened and she smacked her head playfully. "Of course, a blood rite! We can pass on our blood to her and _actually_ adopt her and make her our own flesh and blood. She'll retain her Right of Blood, along with anything from her original family magic, but our own shall be added. It also means that I can pass on my legacy." **[AN2]**

As Robin spoke the last part Amon took her hand and kissed it softly. "Then let's do that, everything will be alright, my little Robin."

Robin nodded her agreement to their plans and smiled at her husband's comment, before she moved to leave. "Azalea will be feeling restless; I should read her that story so that she can sleep – she has a _long_ day ahead of her tomorrow after all."

With that Robin left her husband's side and walked gracefully into her daughter's room. The room itself was rather plain. As they were in the Monastery, not much could be done to change that but the room was rather Spartan by design. Its features consisted of a simple two drawer dresser and a single bed, with a tiny window that overlooked the courtyard below them. Being a Monastery meant that they still partook in daily prayers and doing that instilled order and discipline. Azalea assured them that she was _more_ than content with where she lived, and as long as her parents were with her then she would gladly live in the underground if it meant being with her family.

The Underground was like Diagon Alley, or perhaps closer to Knockturn Alley in that it provided their world with unique items. But to even _see_ the Underground you had to have the Blood of Old running through your veins. It was that or be formally invited by one with such blood. That didn't mean you had to belong to an Ancient and Noble House though, as the Blood of Old manifested only in random _witches_ and only they had the power to 'grant' you permission to enter. The Underground was also a safe haven to creatures that were extinct or deemed Dark by the British Ministry of Magic. **[AN3]**

Snapping from her thoughts Robin spared a tender glance at her adopted daughter. Azalea, despite only being five years old, was already growing into an absolutely beautiful young lady. She had this unseen power that endeared her to the residents in the Monastery. Azalea possessed shoulder length dark brown, almost black hair that sat in delicate curls on her head and slightly tan skin from playing in the courtyard. Her almond shaped eyes were still killing curse green in colour, but they were framed by long, dark lashes and perfectly formed eyebrows.

Robin had no trouble believing that her daughter was going to grow up to be a stunning young lady.

"Mother?" Azalea interrupted. "Are you feeling well, or should I fetch father?"

Robin smiled at her daughter and shook her head. "No my flower, I was just looking at my beautiful daughter and thinking about what a lovely young lady she's becoming."

Azalea blushed cutely and whispered her thanks to her mother. Azalea never did take compliments well, as her humble personality caused her to often shy away from those that offered them. It was something that they'd have to work on, as a Witch Hunter had to be in complete control of their emotions. You never knew when you might face a Witch or Wizard that could read and manipulate emotions.

Robin had in fact fought such foes before; the last time was when she and Amon had encountered a True Seer from the Trelawney family some fifty years ago. The witch had turned Dark after reading a Dark Grimoire and failed to resist the pull of its Dark Magic.

Robin snapped her focus back to her daughter and smiled softly. She sat on the end of Azalea's bed and started to tell a story. "Once upon a time …"

"Mother … not a _baby_ story," Azalea huffed childishly. "I'm _five_ now, you know … can't you please tell me about one of your adventures with father?"

Robin chuckled heartily at Azalea's demand. "Very well then … Three hundred and twenty years have passed since the Coven sank in the Dark …"

Robin trailed off as she delved into her epic story of good and evil, though halfway through Azalea had already fallen asleep.

"Good night, my adorable little flower," Robin whispered as she tucked Azalea in properly and kissed her forehead on her fading scar. "Sweet dreams, my precious daughter."

 **..::..**

At breakfast the next morning Amon and Robin informed Azalea of their plans to begin her training, though they first needed to bind her wand to her and partake of the Blood Ritual. Azalea, who had studied this type of magic in her spare time, was elated and positively glowed at the thought of becoming an actual blood child rather than an adoptive child. She whole heartedly pleaded for them to begin as quickly as possible.

Despite the warm feelings bubbling up within the elderly couple, they informed her that they needed the aid of an original caretaker of her wand to proceed and there were only three people that could assist them: Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore and his older brother, Aberforth Dumbledore, though he was only included due to his blood relation to Albus. Amon decided to call them via their Floo Network whilst Robin properly prepared Azalea for the ritual.

"Dumbledore Manor," Amon called clearly as he threw in the green powder. It was Albus Dumbledore that answered, as he had returned home to retrieve an old family book on wards. He'd had the brilliant idea for a ward to be added at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that would protect the students from the stronger dark creatures. Dumbledore spotted the Floo Call and wasted no time in rushing over to take it, though he sucked in a breath when he spotted _who_ was calling.

Dumbledore coughed, smiled nervously and politely greeted the man as he allowed the man entrance into his Family's home.

"Ah Amon," Albus gulped nervously. "I-Is there something I can help you with my boy?"

"Albus, is that you? I was hoping that Aberforth would be the one to answer but perhaps you can handle my … request," Amon intoned in an impressively emotionless tone.

Albus Dumbledore swallowed the hard lump in the back of his throat. His family owed Robin and Amon a lot. Without the duo's aid, the Dumbledore family would have _all_ perished in Grindelwald's War. "A-Amon, I-I thought that you'd passed on, but it appears that the Dumbledore Family is still in debt to the Witch and her partner."

Amon stared impassively at Albus before he twitched almost imperceptibly. A mere second later Amon had his gun in his hand and was aiming at the staircase.

"There's no need for hostilities here Amon," a noticeably deeper, but still old voice spoke.

"Aberforth," Amon nodded in greeting, though his gun was still trained on the man. "Lower your wand Wizard; I will not miss my shot if you engage me in combat."

"Still the same as ever," sighed Aberforth. "It's okay Albus; I'll deal with this matter. You can go back to Warding the School."

Albus sighed in relief as he wiped the sweat off his brow. "Very well Aberforth, good day Amon."

Still watching Aberforth like a hawk, Amon nodded his head and waited until Albus escaped through the Floo before lowering his gun.

"It's nice to see you again Aberforth," Amon smiled.

"Indeed, I feel the same," Aberforth responded with a chuckle. "I see Albus is still scared of you."

"He shouldn't have dismissed my combat skills during the War then," Amon snorted. "Or those of my wife … she was rather insulted by your brother."

"Ah, I'm truly sorry about that," Aberforth apologised sincerely. "He was far more foolish and reckless back then. He often spoke before thinking; he had no idea _who_ he was insulting."

Amon snorted again before replying with something that Aberforth couldn't believe. "To business then: In exchange for a vial of your blood, Robin and I will call all debts fulfilled. The Dumbledore Family would also be free from its Blood Oath to us."

Calling all debts fulfilled was a huge thing to rub out between the two of them for a vial of blood.

Aberforth swallowed heavily. "That is a serious price to pay for all debts to be paid Amon. Surely you didn't think that I'd want to know _why_ you need Dumbledore Blood."

"I would be surprised if you didn't ask Aberforth," Amon replied flatly. "You are aware that your brother became the Caretaker of the Elder Wand, correct?"

At Aberforth's nod, Amon continued. "Then you should be made aware that your foolish younger brother … is no longer its owner."

Aberforth choked on a breath at Amon's revelation. "A-Are you certain?"

"Completely certain Aberforth," Amon continued, nonplussed by Aberforth's shock and look of fear. "The Elder Wand has chosen its true mistress."

The last statement had Aberforth raising a brow. "You said Mistress?"

"Yes I did, the true owner of the Elder Wand is a witch with the Blood of Old," Amon replied cryptically.

Aberforth's eyes sharpened and narrowed as he put the pieces together. "Albus often mentioned that Potter Child … Azalea, possessed a unique aura about her. It's her isn't it? It's the only thing that makes sense."

"As sharp as ever Aberforth," Amon confirmed. "Though I had no clue that she was a Potter by blood. She was left on the steps of the Monastery as a baby, five years ago. Robin and I adopted her and have raised her in the ways of the True Craft."

"The True Craft, you walk a dangerous path Amon," Aberforth warned.

"Yes, Robin and I know that," Amon replied, danger flashing in his eyes. It caused Aberforth to take a step back by instinct. "Or do you think that we are not qualified, did we not prove ourselves to you and your fellow 'Light' Families."

"I meant no offense Amon," Aberforth reiterated quickly. "I merely think that you should be careful."

Amon took a calming breath and sighed. "I need Dumbledore Blood to assist in a binding ritual. It'll bind the wand to Azalea and mark her as the Elder Wand's true owner."

"I see," Aberforth uttered softly in thought. "Very well, I, Aberforth Dumbledore, Head and Lord of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Dumbledore, do hereby accept the request of one Amon Senna. I grant him Dumbledore Blood in exchange for all debts, both by blood or oath to be forever called fulfilled. So mote it be!"

"So mote it be," Amon confirmed.

A flash of light passed between the two men and Aberforth quickly conjured a ritual dagger and ceremonial phial. He sliced his arm and watched his blood flow freely into the ceremonial phial, before swiftly sealing the phial and healing his arm.

"It is done Amon," Aberforth spoke. "Do take care in raising that child."

"It goes without saying that I want this to be kept to ourselves," Amon interjected. "I don't know _why_ Azalea was on the steps of the Monastery five years ago, but it was that occurrence that Robin has found the one true heiress of the Seeds of the Craft."

"I won't reveal your secrets Amon," Aberforth sighed. "Though you should know that Albus believed young Azalea to be a Squib. He convinced the Potter Family to send her into the muggle world, but Lord Potter … Charlus' boy James, threatened Albus to retrieve her should she indeed possess Magic."

Aberforth licked his lips and continued. "Lord Potter and his friend Lord Black have been obsessed with locating her since Albus foolishly placed her with Magic hating muggles. It was likely they that placed her on the steps of the Monastery five years ago."

"It changes nothing," Amon hissed. "Azalea was abandoned by them for trivial reasons, and now she's _my_ daughter. I will not allow her to come to harm from those that have already abandoned her."

"I understand Amon," Aberforth calmly replied. "You have my word that I shan't reveal her location to her old Family. Though I expect to inspect her Magic Core as soon as the ritual is over, I will offer her my knowledge of Transfiguration and teach her. Albus is gifted in the art, but we both know whose skill is superior."

Amon chuckled. "Indeed, your abilities far outrank your brother's. The Ritual will be completed the moment I step back through the Floo. We also intend to Blood Adopt her Aberforth; we will be completing both rituals by the day's end."

"Then I shall accompany you Amon," Aberforth cheerfully responded. "I still have permission to enter the Monastery's Grounds don't I?"

"Yes, you still have permission," Amon nodded in reply. "You know the Old Matron values your advice."

Aberforth chuckled and gestured to the Floo. "Shall we go then? Best not to keep the Ladies waiting."

 **..::..**

Henry stared sadly at the photo of the green eyed girl that sat next to him in his crib and he sighed miserably, it had been five years since they lost his sister. FIVE. BLOODY. YEARS! When Henry had unintentionally discovered the reason for why he often felt empty, he was furious. According to his parents, he had a twin sister that had all but disappeared from their lives because of a _stupid_ mistake.

Upon the revelation that his supposed squib sister wasn't actually a squib … all hell broke loose. His father, James Potter had wept in sorrow and remorse for his inaction, and he'd even distanced himself from his family once he'd been informed by Dumbledore that magic had been detected at 4 Privet Drive. It wasn't accidental magic or the like, but an exceptionally powerful signature that had been registered there for about three hours before it vanished.

It was then that Dumbledore had broken the news of their missing daughter. Albus was forbidden from trying to explain his reasons and had all but destroyed his ties to the Potter Family. The Headmaster had sworn to find their wayward daughter, but he'd found neither hide nor hair of her for five years.

James and Lily Potter had spent the next two years after Azalea's disappearance searching nonstop for their daughter, but after two years their hope had dwindled and the affairs of House Potter demanded their attention. So James tasked his best friends Sirius Black, who was Azalea's Godfather and Remus Lupin with continuing the search. Their efforts had led them from the Dursley Family's home in Surrey to London, but the trail had ended and gone cold near an old Monastery.

If only they had realised that she was _inside_ the Monastery, but a rare and ancient ward prevented them from entering the Monastery's grounds. Though they never noticed the ward in the first place. James Potter never gave up on the search for Azalea and even right that very moment, he was doing everything within his power to return his daughter home.

Lily Potter was overcome with grief over the loss of her daughter. Lily was a force to be reckoned with when they searched for their daughter. Her enthusiasm was well known, as was her wrath and sheer fury over the actions of the Dursley Family. Her sister Petunia Evans nee Dursley was forever shunned by the neighbourhood women after her dress down from Lily and her husband was being scrutinized by everyone for his hasty actions. It was only Dudley that was spared the wrath that was Lady Lily Potter, as he was only a child – a spoilt child, but a child nonetheless.

Henry often found her staring longingly at Azalea's old baby seat at the table, praying that she'd walk through the daughter with one of their family's friends. A result of Lily's loss was that she babied Henry, and bordered on being overbearing in her desire to protect her remaining child.

Henry traced the snake like scar on his cheek and frowned. The Wizarding World in general was a disgrace. They hailed him, worshiped him as The Boy Who Lived. Merlin how much he hated that title – all it had given him was a headache and it was all a load of Cerberus dung anyway … he would gladly give the title away to see his sister again and to feel complete. He'd had dreams, snippets really, like distant memories that showed beautiful green fire surrounding his crib, but then pain and then darkness.

"It had to be Azalea," Henry whispered to himself. "She had to be the one that called that green fire."

He sighed tiredly and wiped a stray tear as he gazed on the smiling picture of his sister. "I will find you someday."

 **..::..**

Azalea's killing curse green eyes snapped open and she groaned softly. The Ritual to bind the Elder Wand to her permanently had just been completed, and she felt exhausted. Glancing down at the Elder Wand she gasped at its new appearance, it was beautiful. The Elder Wand was now 14.5 inches in length and possessed a twisted, hooked appearance. It had become a dull, death like blackish grey with a sheen that made it seem to glow in the light. What was scary was that the new shape and colour made it look like the dark bony, hooked finger of a skeleton. **[AN4]**

Azalea could just _feel_ the power pulsing within the wand and she instinctively knew that she needed to learn control, so as to not let the wand go out of control as some wands did in the hands of inexperienced witches and wizards.

Azalea hissed as her magic flared in response to grasping the wand. "I-I feel this wand's power mother, it scares me."

"And it should Azalea," Robin responded softly. "That Wand has never been bound to a single owner or form, and its binding has condensed its wandering power within it. As an old acquaintance once told me: A Powerful Wand in the hands of an inexperienced User is like courting chaos and destruction."

"D-Do you think that I shouldn't use this wand mother?" Azalea whispered, scared to speak louder.

"It's a part of your Magic now, little flower," Robin replied as she petted Azalea's soft curls. "No other wand will properly accept you now. This wand is yours and yours alone."

"And that scares me mother," Azalea admitted honestly. "If only I can use a wand as powerful as this, then I'm scared of what I will become."

"Azalea, you're only five years old and you shouldn't be dwelling on such thoughts," Robin smiled at her daughter sadly. 'So young, yet so mature.'

Whatever Azalea was going to say was cut off by the Flash of the Floo Network. Azalea squealed happily and pounced on the new arrival, her father Amon. He had left to obtain the last materials and ingredients to complete the Blood Adoption Ritual.

"Well, I admit to being awed by your power young Azalea," a deep voice spoke, causing the young girl to jump in fright. "I'm sorry Mr. Dumbledore, thank you for your blood to complete the Ritual."

"Think nothing of it young lady," Aberforth replied cheerfully. "Such a powerful reaction to the ceremony means that you'll be a very powerful witch in the future. I heard your thoughts on the matter and I admit to being pleasantly surprised by your maturity on the matter. Fear of your Magic isn't necessary, but caution and control is … you'll be wise to listen to your Magic and train it."

"Thank you Mr. Dumbledore," Azalea smiled, she liked this man. "If I'm not sounding too rude, are you going to visit later?"

Aberforth chuckled. "Yes, I've just made arrangements to teach you Transfiguration. It's a branch of modern Magic and I hope that you can learn all I can teach. Oh, by all means, you may call me Aberforth."

Azalea squealed again and hugged Aberforth. "Thank you Aberforth, I'd very much like to learn from you."

"Then it's settled," Aberforth smiled as he petted her head softly.

Amon coughed and drew everyone's attention. "I believe we should complete the Blood Adoption Ritual now."

"A fine suggestion," Aberforth nodded, as Robin voiced her own agreement.

Azalea ran to the Runic Array and knelt in the centre; she then took the potion from Amon and crinkled her nose cutely as she downed it as quickly as she could. "Eww, gross."

That was all she could get out before she began screaming in pain as the potion took effect, not that she'd ever admit to screaming if asked later.

Azalea's dark brown hair turned raven black in colour, as her eyebrows and eyelashes became as black as her hair – hair that became silky and shiny as it fell in soft curls, like gentle waves. Azalea's tanned skin faded by several shades and became a delicate, creamy pale colour that defined her delicate features. Her cheekbones rose and became more prominent. It gave her an elegant and regal appearance, with her lips retaining their soft, pink hue.

The Blood Adoption looked to be over, but then she screamed in sheer agony as an unexpected and rare occurrence happened. All genetic Magical traits locked away in her blood, both old and new clashed. Their clashing caused them to be forcibly awoken and strengthened. Hidden quirks, like the Slytherin Bloodline ability of Parseltongue awakened, as did her heritage from the Ravenclaw Bloodline. It granted her the incredible ability to store and recall memories and information, and that added to Azalea's already prodigious level of intelligence, saw her brain's capabilities and IQ skyrocket to inhuman levels.

As the awakening process reached its peak, the door to the ritual room was blown open, and the icy winds of winter howled ominously around everyone. Seconds later, the Matron and leader of the Monastery hurried into the room. Her words failed her as she gazed on the mesmerizing sight of Azalea's awakening and she glared at Amon and Robin. It was a glare that would have normally had them explaining what was happening, but instead, Amon and Robin were horrified at what was happening.

Of those watching, only Aberforth understood what was happening, as he also understood the consequences of the child's awakening. Everything that was her inheritance as a Potter was forever gone to the girl. Oh sure, her blood would still show her as a Potter, but it would also stop her from receiving anything more than Blood Protections from the Potter Family Magic.

No sooner than the realization hit him, the storm of pure Magic ended and revealed the newly changed girl. He snorted but held back the laugh of irony, as she still looked like Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, but a glance into her unnaturally intelligent eyes proved her to be different. They were still killing curse green in colour, but now they truly glowed as ominously as the curse itself. Then he realised just _who_ the girl looked like … the girl was a dead ringer for Rowena Ravenclaw, sans her eyes, but the terrifying thought was that Rowena Ravenclaw was often mistaken for Rowena's ancestor … Morgana LeFay.

And Morgana LeFay was capable of unimaginable feats of Magic that defied the very laws of nature.

Aberforth remembered seeing a picture of Morgana LeFay once, just once and that was right before the tome with her portrait in it was ripped from his hands by his grandmother and thrown into the fire … never to be seen again. But her visage haunted his thoughts now, for Azalea looked _exactly_ like Morgana reborn, eyes and all.

"And the intelligence behind those eyes," Aberforth muttered in awe, a shiver descending down his spine.

Robin had tears in her eyes as she gazed upon Azalea's new form. She was beautiful and had the eyes of an eagle as she narrowed her gaze, the power welling behind her eyes flashed as Azalea finally drew in a deep breath.

'No, not the eyes of an eagle,' Robin mused with a critical eye. 'No, they're more like the eyes of a Raven. As sharp and as deadly as an eagle, but the ruthless addition of a scavenger seeking to devour a tasty morsel … be that knowledge or power.'

Azalea opened her mouth to speak, but a strained wheeze was released instead. It seemed that the two rituals had done a number on her Magic Core and she needed to rest.

"Azalea, little flower?" questioned Amon. "You've used an incredible amount of Magic today, you should rest now. We'll start your training tomorrow."

Azalea smiled tiredly and nodded to Amon, it was clear to see that the poor girl was about to fall over from exhaustion, so they gently led her to her chambers. The silence was broken by the Matron.

"What the devil were you thinking?" she hissed angrily. "If not for our ancient wards, the entire continent and half of Europe would have felt that."

"Our intention was to simply Blood Adopt Azalea to Amon and Robin, Lady Matron," Aberforth smiled charmingly.

"Ah, Aberforth, I should have known you were involved in this," the Matron drawled tiredly. Before sighing. "The Seeds of the Craft have sprouted in our little flower."

"Indeed, I was not expecting such a powerful backlash in the Ritual," Aberforth agreed. "I find myself even more perplexed as a reaction of that magnitude usually coincides with an already strong Blood Relation."

"Azalea's magic flows with the power of the ancient Witches," the Matron snapped. "It is no surprise that she would become more powerful due to the Binding of her Wand and her true Blood gifts awakening."

"I find myself feeling rather eager to keep my promise to the young lady now," Aberforth mused out loud.

"What promise you old fool?" the Matron hesitantly asked.

"Why the promise to teach her all I know, my dear," Aberforth easily replied. "If that also affords me the chance to see your beauty every day, then I'm afraid it'd take a disaster of incredible scale to prevent my assistance to young Azalea."

The Matron groaned in exasperation. "You'll never change, will you Aberforth?"

"My dearest Matron," Aberforth replied charmingly. "Why would I wish to change my feeling for you?"

"Get out of here Aberforth," the Matron snapped again, though the faint dusting of pink was almost visible on her aged face. "You may use the quarters next to Azalea's to stay. Something tells me that you'll want to be close by should Azalea suffer any more surprises."

"Indeed," was all Aberforth replied with, before he bowed respectively and left the Ritual Room.

"I only hope that she learns to control her tempestuous powers," the Matron muttered before turning and returning to her office.

 **..::..**

The next time Azalea opened her eyes, five days had passed her by. The Ritual's toll on Azalea had been immense and it had taken those five days to completely settle her Magic Core. She shakily slid from her bed covers and stood on wobbly legs. She carefully made her way to the door, but only made it a few steps before falling to the floor with a thud. The noise seemed to alert the other residents of her awakened state, as less than 30 seconds later, the door opened and she heard a gasp.

Azalea felt someone steady her, and while supporting her, they made their way downstairs. The smell of cologne was unmistakeably her father's, and the soothing smell coupled with the dark clothes eased her considerably. Arriving to the smells of a wonderfully cooked breakfast, Azalea managed to lift her heavy head to see her mother and Aberforth chatting seriously. Her sharper eyes managed to make out the words training and dangerous, but that was all.

Robin turned to Azalea and stood formally. She gracefully picked up a box from the table and opened it to reveal a dress that was identical to what she described in her stories. The dress was what she wore as a young initiate in the Arts of the Craft, and it would be Azalea's to wear from that day on.

"Azalea Dorea Potter-Senna," Robin hesitantly spoke and only at the unsurprised look from Azalea continued. "I gather from your lack of surprise you remember?"

"Only pieces mother, only pieces," Azalea rasped out. "I remember fragments, but they happened so long ago that they feel as though they were lived by another person."

"I see," Robin responded. "Azalea Dorea Potter-Senna, as a Master of the Craft, I hereby accept you as my pupil. Do you swear to follow my instructions, not matter the consequences? Do you swear to obey the Laws of the Ancient Ones and to bind your soul to the art of Hunting those that abuse their connection to Magic?"

Azalea licked her dry lips and nodded as she felt power from within her respond to the traditional oath of a Hunter. "I, Azalea Dorea Potter-Senna, do hereby swear on my Magic and Blood to obey my Mistress in the Arts and to forever bind myself to the Laws of the Ancient Ones … So I swear, so mote it be!"

An incredible feeling of peace and longing filled Azalea as her Magic spiked to announce that the Ancient Ones had accepted her Oath.

"Then my daughter and pupil, your training begins _now_ ," Robin spoke seriously, "I shall teach you the ways of the Ancient Ones, while Amon will teach you muggle self-defence – a necessary element to your training. As you have already accepted his instruction – Aberforth Dumbledore shall teach you Transfiguration, and the Matron, and head of the Monastery has also allowed the other Residents and Hunters to teach you the other Modern Magical Arts, namely Potions and Charms."

"Your knowledge of the Dark Arts and how to defend yourself is strong, but you will properly learn _how_ to harness that knowledge properly," Robin continued. "Other Residents will instruct you on languages, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy and Etiquette. Politics and Social Intricacies such as Dancing and the like will be added soon after."

Azalea nodded and took the offered dress. "I shall change and be right back mother."

Azalea returned ten minutes later dressed in her new clothing and was prepared to learn.

"Then let us begin Azalea," Amon declared.

 **..::..**

 **And at last it's here. Chapter 02 has been rewritten and posted, I really do apologise for the delay.**

 **AN1 – Ancient Wards lost to the Wizarding World as a whole protect the Building. If you want to know what I picture when I think of the Monastery – think of the Monastery from the Wanted Movie – that's the older one.**

 **AN2 – Do remember that Robin and Amon don't know that Azalea is already related to them.**

 **AN3 – Picture the Bazaar from the 2** **nd** **Hellboy Movie.**

 **AN4 – Picture a more Skeletal version of Bellatrix' wand. Azalea's is more 'dead' in appearance … it's a Deathly Hallow for a reason.**

 **Apart from that, those that've read the Original Version of the Story will note that I changed a LOT in regards to Dumbledore's interactions with the Family, and I removed the Bashing that Lily came under. I'm going to** ** _try_** **to limit bashing, but expect those that made mistakes to pay for them … harshly.**

 **..::..**

 **AS ALWAYS: PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 **..::..**

 **\^o^/**


	3. Chapter 3

**..::..**

 **So with the update of this story, the poll on Azalea's pairing is now closed with an incredible amount of support placed on Fleur. So this story's pairing will be Azalea X Fleur (Fem!Harry X Fleur).**

 **The chapter will also mark the end of the previously written content. Therefore, the next chapter will be broaching into new content, along with what has been changed/edited in this chapter. I've included a sort of training and reaction section to this chapter as opposed to automatically switching passed the training and straight to the meeting with Sirius that the original had.**

 **I have had quite a few PMs regarding the list of candidates for Azalea as her pairing. It seemed that a lot of peeps out there wanted to see a darker pairing, but please remember that Azalea is going to be a** ** _Witch Hunter_** **and as such, no dark pairings are there. A minority of those PMs requested that I add Sirius to the poll but gross, technically the man is related to her and I don't do incest. That's what it'd feel like I was attempting to type.**

 **Well, that's it … so please enjoy the chapter.**

 **..::..**

 **I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR WITCH HUNTER ROBIN!**

 **..::..**

"It's a Witch!" – Speech

'It's a Witch!' – Thoughts

 **"It's a Witch!"** – Familiar Speech

 **'It's a Witch!'** – Familiar Thoughts

 ** _"_** ** _It's a Witch!"_** – Parseltongue Speech

 ** _'_** _ **It's a**_ ** _Witch!'_** – Parseltongue Thoughts

 **..::..**

Azalea yawned tiredly as she turned her gaze to the still dark morning sky. It had only been a week since her training under her mother, and mistress in the Craft had begun and she was exhausted. Since her blood adoption she found the ability to recall anything that she'd ever learnt was more than second nature, and in regards to nature … her interest in the smaller things had also changed. Azalea became absolutely fascinated with everything and anything that caught her eye, be it a simple enchantment or spell, or the most arcane of ritual theory. Anything she'd ever learned or inherited from the circumstances of her abandonment suddenly became crystal clear and somehow that same ordinary information became relevant to everyday life.

What really interested her about the memories inherited from Voldemort was the theory of unravelling the very threads of magic … everything became beautiful to Azalea and her natural curiosity showed in her determination to learn anything that the residents of the Monastery deemed to teach her.

So when she reflected on her teachings, it had _only_ been a week since she'd begun and there was _so_ much more to learn.

"Little Flower?" her thoughts were interrupted by her mother. "While I'm pleased to see that you're taking your studies seriously, you must focus on my teachings and not day dream."

"I understand mother," Azalea tiredly replied. "Please continue, you were talking about meditation and discovering the balance of power in one's self."

Robin blinked, it still amazed her just how much her young daughter could recall and retain – it seemed that it worked with half-hearted listening as well. Robin sighed and returned to the blackboard that she was using to help teach Azalea.

"The Seeds of the Craft must _never_ be used until you can find your balance Azalea," Robin continued. "If you attempt even the simplest of rituals before you do, then you can burn the essence from your very blood."

Azalea hummed thoughtfully. "Does that mean that I should be meditating every day?"

"A good question," Robin nodded. "In your case I would only recommend meditation until you can feel the Essence of the Craft within you. Since you've already used the Craft before as a child, a toddler at that – you only need to rediscover that feeling."

Azalea frowned momentarily. "So I only need to discover the right way to access my power then?"

"Correct," Robin praised, earning an angelic smile from her daughter. "It's similar to the Patronus Charm in that regard. The Patronus Charm relies on positive and happy emotions/feelings to properly utilize the Charm to its fullest potential. Likewise, a Witch's power uses particular feelings/emotions to draw upon that power. Anger was originally believed to be the only trigger to a Witch's power … but you've already disproved that theory by using the craft at an age where you couldn't express emotions such as anger clearly."

"So you believe that my power is drawn out by some other emotion or feeling?" Azalea questioned, confusion marring her forehead.

"Yes, that's what I believe," Robin continued. "And that is why you'll be meditating every morning until you're able to draw upon the emotion required as if it were second nature to you."

Azalea nodded and followed her mother's instructions in learning how to properly meditate.

 **..::..**

Azalea grunted as she hit the padded floor of the gym room. Her father Amon looked at her downed form and tutted. "You need to shift your weight into the strike to increase its attack power."

Instead of grumbling, as Amon had expected, Azalea simply stood and retook the beginning stance of the self-defence style her father was showing her. It was a mixed martial arts style that combined several different styles to maximise confusion in her future enemies, whilst providing an edge with those with a style of their own.

"While I'm proud to see you get back up flower," Amon started before smiling lightly. "This is only your first lesson. Stay down for now and rest … Aberforth will be here momentarily to teach you Transfiguration."

Azalea squealed happily and glomped her father happily. "Thank you for your training father."

"You're very welcome flower," Amon responded with a soft pet of her head. "Now you best freshen up for your next class."

No sooner had Amon spoken the words, Aberforth strolled in with a reddened mark on his face.

"Harassing the Matron again Aberforth?" he questioned in a curious tone.

"Harassing … dear me, no!" he replied indignantly. "I was wooing her."

Amon sighed exasperatedly but before he could respond, the soft sound of Azalea's voice cut through their thoughts.

"What's wooing?" Azalea questioned with an adorable head tilt.

Amon and Aberforth shared a look that clearly showed their reluctance to answer her question. "We'll tell you when you're older little flower."

'Not that we'd _ever_ allow anyone to woo you,' was the unspoken thought of the two men. Azalea just smiled and nodded cheerfully, happy to wait to learn the secrets to 'wooing'.

"Now my dear," Aberforth intoned before standing to his full height. "Transfiguration may appear to be easy magic to perform, but the truth is that it can be one of the most complicated forms of magic to learn."

Aberforth licked his lips and demonstrated the simple action of turning a nearby cardboard box into a rat, and then back again. Azalea turned an awed expression to her teacher and nodded seriously … she understood her teacher's words and took them to heart.

 **..::..**

It was dark.

Her mind was blank of any and all emotion as she wandered the darkness that surrounded her young form, though Azalea wouldn't deny the sense of fear that threatened to swallow her at a moment's notice. She swallowed the imaginary lump in the back of her throat before venturing forth into the darkness. As if sensing something unseen, Azalea shifted her wary gaze to her left and felt her eyes widen as a soft glow could be seen. The soft glow illuminated a previously unseen hallway and Azalea sped up towards the glowing light.

Azalea could hear a thrumming noise as she walked. It started softly, like a breath of a whisper in her ear, but it soon became a powerful thrumming noise as she got closer to the light. Then all at once she stopped at an invisible wall … she could advance no further.

"I don't understand," Azalea's voice was distorted by the ambience of the thrumming of power nearby. "I followed the instructions perfectly."

Her fear spiked as a sudden chill went down her spine as though an icy wind blew through the hallway. "I'm scared; I don't know where to go."

Azalea huddled into the invisible wall as it warmed her deep within. Her eyes widened as she remembered her mother's words. 'You must _never_ stop … keeping moving and don't stop. If you stop then you will lose your way.'

A sudden surge of heat passed through the chilly hallway and she found herself feeling safe and secure – like her mother's hug or the comforting smell of her father's cologne – though strangely, she thought that she heard a boy's whisper urging her to continue onwards, a whisper that echoed with her core and brought new life to her cold body. Filled with this new found strength, Azalea shouted her determination as she pushed against the invisible wall with all of her strength – the wall shuddered underneath her grasp but remained strong.

Azalea growled … she would not fail here! Not when she was so close to her goal. Her eyes closed as heat unlike anything she'd ever felt before burst free from within her as a memory rose unbidden. The memory of her magic as it protected her and her brother from the darkness that threatened their safety. Azalea snapped her eyes open as the heat became unbearable and shrieked in fury as hauntingly beautiful green flames burst forth from within her. The flames burned through the invisible wall and swallowed the darkness of the hallway in one powerful explosion, an explosion that started a chain reaction and travelled further – all the way to where her journey began … her inner mind.

Outside of her mind, the green flames spiralled around her body as it was locked in meditation.

Her mother and the Matron insisted that she make the journey to rediscover her magic on her own, as it was _her_ magic. So as time passed, they grew worried as it commonly took less time to discover one's magical core. Then as Robin approached her daughter's form, the green fire burst free in a mesmerizing display of power, it both awed and chilled those watching to their own cores, for as it thrummed with power, their own magic thumped to the heartbeat of the flames.

Azalea's magic was sentient – there could be no other explanation and that scared those present. Sentient magic while common in magic _outside_ of the body was incredibly rare _inside_ the body.

"By the Ancient Gods," the Matron stuttered quietly, though those watching could hear her clear as day in their own awed silence. "H-How much power does this child have?"

Robin found herself unable to answer as her daughter's power continued to skyrocket in intensity and density. The room became stifled and it became hard to breath – Azalea's flames burning through even the enchantments and wards that recycled the air. Just as it dawned on them that they could die if they stayed – the essence disappeared and they were left with an eerily peaceful flame burning in Azalea's now outstretched hand. Her eyes glowed as ominously as the flame and she gazed into the power that originated from within her. Like an unspoken spell had shattered, Azalea suddenly gasped as she completely returned to the mortal plane. She choked and wheezed as precious oxygen filled her lungs again.

Robin immediately surged forward and caught her daughter's swaying form.

"I-I did it mother," Azalea wheezed tiredly. "I found my power's core and the emotion that triggers my flames."

"Yes you did little flower," Robin replied tenderly. "I'm so very proud of you."

Azalea smiled tiredly but adopted a confused look as she gazed upon those present. Robin noticed and raised a curious brow at her. Azalea blushed softly and croaked, "There was a boy in my thoughts Mother … I was curious to see if he was here."

"A boy, are you certain Azalea?" her mother asked curiously.

"Yes, I'm positive," Azalea responded, before her eyes widened. "C-Could it have been m-my brother?"

Robin hummed thoughtfully. "It's possible, as a magical twin it wouldn't be a stretch to hear an echo of your brother's own magic … it would be stronger if you were _identical_ twins."

"I-I see," Azalea yawned, before collapsing into her mother's arms.

"Oh my precious daughter," Robin whispered as she ran her fingers through Azalea's hair lovingly. "If you only knew how strong your magic's essence truly is."

 **..::..**

Meanwhile in Godric's Hollow, Henry Charlus Potter surged from his sleep with a strangled shout that sounded more like a desperate cry for breath. Lily Potter burst through the doors seconds later, Wand in hand and a truly ferocious look on her face. She ran through several dozen diagnostic spells before relaxing with a sigh. James Potter calmly walked in the room seconds behind Lily and used his enchanted glasses to search the room himself … once discovering that the room was empty of any other presences, he relaxed too.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Lily cooed as she wiped the sweat off of Henry's face. "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

"I-It was Azalea," Henry shakily croaked. "I was there, I saw her … I-I."

"Breathe son," James soothed, having the intended effect as Henry visibly calmed. "Now breathe and recall … like I taught you."

Henry took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly – once he'd done that several times, he answered more clearly. "I was in darkness, but I wasn't _there._ I was following a pretty girl in through the darkness … she was scared and felt alone. She saw a strange light and followed – as I also followed but she came to an invisible wall. The darkness grew stronger and it became cold, b-but then she grew strong and I called to her – to not give up and then … that f-fire."

"Fire, what do you mean?" Lily frowned thoughtfully. "You don't mean the fire from your nightmares do you?"

"It was the same," Henry continued. "But it was different, it was so _pure._ I've never felt anything like it but it brought back the memories of that night and I think that m-maybe _she_ saw them too."

James instantly pounced on the new information regarding their missing family member. "Did you see _anything_ that could show where she was?"

"Sorry dad, but no," Henry responded sadly. "I'm sorry, but I was just swept up in her emotions."

"It'll be okay son," James calmed his son with a tussle of his hair. "We'll find her, I promise."

"I know," Henry smiled to his parents. "I just feel a little … empty … without her like when we were younger. Azalea was the stronger baby, just her presence soothed me."

"We know," smirked Lily mischievously. "Whenever you cried, all we had to do was put you with Azalea and you'd calm down quickly."

"Muuuuum," Henry whined pitifully.

Chuckling, the two parents wished Henry a good night and left in silence.

"I _will_ find you sister," Henry vowed in the darkness of his room.

 **..::..**

The mood in the empty church was tense as Azalea stood still in the middle of an amazingly well-crafted circle. It sat in the very centre of the church and surrounding the circular centre, there were hundreds of candles that remained unlit. They were scattered everywhere – some in ornate holders, others on the altar, the floor, and some even decorated the elaborate chandelier that had once decorated the roof but now sat on the floor.

Amon, Aberforth, Robin and the Matron held their breath as Azalea snapped her eyes open and spun gracefully. Exhaling sharply, Azalea called her flames forth and set the candle wick's alight. As Azalea exited her graceful spin, she sighed sadly as only half the candles were lit. She'd now been studying for a year under her parents, Aberforth and the residents of the Monastery.

"I'm sorry mother," Azalea softly spoke as her instructors approached.

"For what little flower?" her mother questioned, chuckling as Azalea puffed out her cheeks at the nickname. "You think that only a year of training will be enough? Of course not Azalea, you have only just begun your education."

Azalea shrunk, humbled by her mother's words. It was true, she had grown arrogant and overconfident. "I won't overestimate my abilities next time, I promise mother."

"I know Azalea," Robin smiled. "Now freshen up, we need to visit the Repository of Knowledge."

Azalea perked up and squealed happily before fleeing out of the room to do as she was told. "Any excuse to go and visit the vast collection of the world? She really is a descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw, isn't she?"

"I do believe that it would be prudent to remind you of who taught Rowena and encouraged the pursuit of knowledge," Aberforth prompted.

"Agreed," the Matron agreed with a sharp nod of the head. "She is so much like her ancestor that it's scary … forget Rowena, she's almost a reincarnation of Morgana LeFay."

Robin frowned but after a moment of thought, she nodded as well. "I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, but did anyone else notice it?"

Amon nodded with narrowed eyes. "Yes, her power was _weaving_ through the empty space, not burning through it."

Robin sighed. "Yes, it seems that she's been learning something outside of her studies with us, I'm worried about where she's learning these things from."

"Oh, that's easy," Azalea's angelic tone cut through. "I was given a scroll from the Caretaker of the Repository of Knowledge – he gave it to me saying something about my rightful heritage."

Her teachers all turned, but it was the Matron that replied, her tone serious. "What do you mean Caretaker? There is no Caretaker at the Repository Azalea."

"Just because you don't see him, or the others," Azalea replied indignantly. "Doesn't mean that they're not there Elder Matron – he was there when I first visited, he was _most_ surprised that someone could see him or the helpers though."

"He gave me the scroll but it turned to Ash when I touched it," Azalea continued with a thoughtful frown marring her beautiful face. "But I just remembered everything on the scroll for some reason."

"The Texts of the Fae," the Matron concluded in shock.

"I beg your pardon, my dear?" Aberforth prompted. "I've never heard of such texts before."

"You wouldn't have," it was Azalea that replied. "They belong to the Bloodline of Fae, later named LeFay."

"Just _how_ do you know that?" the Matron demanded. "None but the Elders …"

"Or the Caretakers," Azalea interrupted. "Know of the Scrolls existence, yes."

"The Caretaker gave a scroll to me," Azalea repeated. "I think it was a test though, he seemed very pleased when he saw what happened. He and his helpers call me Lady Fae or Lady Fairy for some reason now."

The Matron remained silent but inside she was fearful. 'If she can access the Scrolls of the Fae, then there's no doubt now … she _is_ the reincarnation of Morgana of the Fae.'

"It explains why you're so excited to go then little flower," Robin cut in, ignoring the adorable pout on her daughter's face – that changed when she perked up and mentioned something else.

"The Caretaker said that he'd have a surprise for me when I next visited," Azalea added in cheerfully.

Robin and Amon shared a look that passed to Aberforth and then to the Matron in turn, the unspoken thought between them was that they'd _all_ visit the Repository of Knowledge.

 **..::..**

The group, plus one energetic girl entered the busy streets of the Underground, their cloaks hiding their faces to better protect themselves. Everywhere one looked, there was a new sight or an additional magical creature that now called the Underground home. Their journey led them to the deepest parts of the Underground, earning them some suspicious glances from the curious onlookers. They eventually left the main street and ventured toward a giant tower that stood alone in a giant empty space.

Despite the size, even the residents of the Underground seemed oblivious to the tower's presence. It brought the thought to the adults in the group: if they could hide a building even in a magical rich environment, then it would've been easy to hide the helpers … was Azalea really the only person seeing these helpers?

They entered the massive building and they rose a brow when they heard Azalea sigh happily – as though she was coming home from a long day. Strangely as they entered, Azalea waved and bowed to a stack of tomes that seemed to float by them on their own. They made their way to the central area of the tower and despite their frequent visits, they still couldn't stop their looks of awe at the interior.

The tower was cylindrical and wherever you looked were books, scrolls and tomes, whilst the entirety of the interior was well lit by a giant series of mirrors that all reflected the light. **[AN1]**

Azalea skipped past the many bookcases and cluttered tables towards the base of the great mirror device. She bowed softly to an empty seat and gestured to her instructors. There was a moment of silence where said instructors questioned her sanity. That proved unnecessary as seconds later a young man materialized in front of them.

He had dark hair and pale skin with incredibly blue eyes. Aberforth gasped and surged forward with hope flashing through his eyes. "A-Abraham, is that you cousin?"

"Aberforth," nodded the now named Abraham, his voice so very delicate in nature.

"H-How are you here Abraham?" the stupefied Aberforth questioned. "Y-You died, I watched you die."

"I did die cousin," Abraham replied calmly. "I was granted the chance to watch over this Repository by the Ancient Ones, and I accepted their offer. I was told that I'd be of help to the Lady Fae when the time came, and here she is."

Abraham flicked his gaze to Azalea, who was giggling at nothing again. A cough from Abraham had the helpers reveal their forms to be Kitsune, who were guiding books to their rightful places. They all bowed their heads to Azalea as they passed and the one Azalea was giggling at was licking her hand. The adults were stunned as they realised that Azalea was being truthful when she defended the Caretaker and his helpers.

"Now then," Abraham interrupted. "I promised you a surprise, did I not Lady Fae?"

"Oh that doesn't matter Master Caretaker," Azalea bowed softly. "Being able to visit the Repository and see you all again is more than enough for me."

"You honour me Lady Fae," Abraham nodded thankfully. "But as I have told you my lady, you are Lady Fae, and all this."

Abraham gestured to the surrounding area and continued. "All of this belongs to you."

The Matron gasped and shot a shocked look to Abraham, the Kitsune Helpers and then to Azalea, there was no doubt at all now, especially if this Caretaker acknowledged Azalea as such.

"Nevertheless my lady," Abraham continued. "You are of age for the Ritual that I wish to conduct."

A glance to Robin and Amon calmed the two nervous parents. "Do not fear for Lady Fae, it is merely a simple Familiar Ritual."

"It is an ancient ritual not used anymore," Abraham continued. "It's actually Eastern in Origin … and it can result in more than a standard Cat, Toad or Owl."

Azalea was excited, this was a Ritual that she'd read about as the Kitsune seemed eager to see if any of their numbers would be bound to their mistress. A short walk to a Ritual Room had the reality of what was going to happen sink in to the adults, were they ready for a six year old to have a bonded familiar?

Azalea did as directed and stood in front of a _square_ summoning array instead of the standard circular one. Azalea pricked her thumb and watched her blood drip into the square. It shone brightly and light blinded those watching.

Azalea froze in shock as she stared at the monster … it was a snake that was much larger than should be possible. The monster snake had pure black scales were highlighted by the diamond red patterns that ran across the top of its body, while its underside was a pale yet creamy yellow hue. As it slithered closer at a quicker pace – now sensing her presence, she tensed in fear. It sensed that fear and flared its now noticeable hood like a cobra, the two red dots now visible as its two red coloured eyes narrowed. **[AN2]**

Fear like no other flooded Azalea's mind and deep down, something in her blood sparked to life. It caused a chain reaction that ran through her veins – eliminating that fear and replacing it with indignation – how _dare_ a serpent threaten her – _she_ was of Slytherin's Blood.

Whatever the reaction had sparked – the monster cobra halted. This feeling that overcame it was not natural. This human was suddenly in a higher position on the food chain and an unseen power _demanded_ its respect.

Those watching immediately acted. They had watched Azalea freeze and all assumed that something was very wrong … rushing to Azalea's location they were all stunned and more than a little unnerved as she suddenly _spoke_ in the feared Serpent Tongue.

 ** _"_** ** _You dare threaten me serpent?"_** Azalea hissed menacingly.

Everyone in the room froze – serpent included as a previously unseen aura engulfed Azalea's form. It was a frightening sight to behold – though what was truly frightening was what was unseen.

Deep within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a certain hidden chamber, a beautiful green glow engulfed the room and a certain Basilisk shuddered as its slumber was interrupted. Its Master's _true_ heir was awake at last and in response, the Basilisk bowed deeply in the direction of power and turned to stone – its time now over as it would be the new heir's power to create his or her own serpent protector.

Back in the room with Azalea, her parents and teachers and a now scared giant serpent … the green glow of aura seeped into Azalea's body and settled. The damage had been done however as the serpent wasted _no_ time at all in lowering its head and flattening its hood.

 ** _"_** ** _Forgive me mistress speaker,"_** the snake hissed, its tone distinctly male. **_"_** ** _I was unaware of your status my lady, please do not banish me my lady."_**

 ** _"_** ** _Give me a reason not to serpent,"_** Azalea hissed in turn – a serious expression marring her usually happy face.

 ** _"_** ** _My lady, I beseech you,"_** the snake begged. **_"_** ** _I was summoned from my slumber, my nest is now disturbed and my stomach empty. My mate is gone and I am alone, I was prepared to sleep and pass on."_**

Azalea's hissing slowed as she appeared in thought. **_"What are you serpent, you are not a normal snake."_**

The snake reared back in shock. For a human – a speaker or not – to sense anything of his power spoke of her own power. He narrowed his own red gaze on the human female's magic. It was so strong and pure … like the magic of the original craft users.

 ** _"_** ** _I am Naga mistress speaker,"_** he finally responded. **_"_** ** _My mate's name is Nagini in Parseltongue. I beg you my lady – do not banish me for to do so would be sending me to die without my mate."_**

 ** _"_** ** _You were already prepared to die,"_** Azalea rebutted smoothly. **_"_** ** _Why do you now wish to live?"_**

 ** _"_** ** _It is true that either way I was to die alone, without my mate,"_** Naga reasoned. **_"_** ** _But before I was already asleep, my own magic leaving my form. When I was summoned by this ritual, it rekindled my magic and life, so to banish me would mean that I would die in agony as my magic left me while I was awake … for a Naga it would be as you humans call inhumane."_**

Azalea sighed. **_"Very well Naga, I will spare you from such a fate."_**

 ** _"_** ** _I thank you lady speaker,"_** Naga hissed in relief. **_"_** ** _But I fear as though it won't be much of a mercy for I am too far from my nest – my source of magic."_**

 ** _"_** ** _And how can this be rectified?"_** she questioned, only continuing at the snake's odd look. **_"_** ** _You have moved me serpent, I wish to see you live."_**

Naga hissed his shock, did the human realise what she was asking?

 ** _"_** ** _Do you understand what you ask mistress speaker?"_** he hissed questioningly.

 ** _"_** ** _I admit that I do not understand the full ramifications of my words,"_** Azalea replied honestly. **_"_** ** _But your magic is as transparent to me as your motives, you are sincere and have no true purpose in living without your mate beyond simply living."_**

 ** _"_** ** _Then I shall join you mistress speaker,"_** Naga decided. This speaker was honourable and her magical essence was pure. He was powerful on his own as a Naga but bonded with this speaker? He'd rival a Basilisk in power.

Azalea didn't truly understand what she was doing but something in her blood was missing and this snake's own magic resonated with that emptiness. **_"Then I accept you into my company and magic Naga, bond with me to complete your pact."_**

Naga hissed in acceptance, and before anyone could react – he lunged forward and sunk his fangs into her outstretched hand. A powerful blast of magic burst free and new life filled Naga, his scales taking on a healthy shine and his eyes shone with new magic and life. He then gasped however as something _unexpected_ occurred. The essence of Slytherin's Blood carried with it the essence of the Serpent's Familiar. The very power that created the Basilisk and it flowed through Azalea's body into her new Naga familiar. It changed the Naga as it grew exponentially and altered his body magically.

The mantle had been passed on and a new Basilisk was now King and Guardian of Hogwarts.

When the light of the magic passed the onlookers almost fainted as there now stood Azalea with a 60FT Naga/Basilisk Hybrid. The scary thing was that if it was 60FT long now – then how large would it be as Azalea grew with her magic?

Naga opened his red eyes and hissed with new power – he felt incredible and so much knowledge was now his – knowledge of who his new mistress was and knowledge of what he was now. In his wildest dreams did he imagine he would become _the_ serpent King.

 ** _"_** ** _It is done,"_** Azalea simply hissed, before she swayed softly.

Naga instantly acted and shifted his weight into his new mistress. The movement shattered the tenseness of the moment and everyone sighed in relief.

"It _was_ a Naga, I guess it's more now though," Abraham explained. "It's incredible that she could summon one, I was expecting a Raven or Crow like her ancestor."

"He's perfect," Azalea chattered happily, as she rubbed Naga's smooth scales lovingly – she felt so complete now.

Abraham smiled at the scene and gave Azalea a book that would help her learn to care for her familiar. "You'll need to be careful with a Serpent Familiar – many will be nervous around him and you must be extra careful to hide his true abilities – in fact, you may want to shrink him down to blend in."

As if prompted to, Naga glowed and shrunk to a 2 metre version of his full form and slithered in a circle to assess his smaller form.

 ** _"_** ** _I didn't think that that would work,"_** he hissed in surprise.

Azalea giggled at his tone and replied. **_"Yet it did, this will be a valuable tool Naga."_**

Azalea got a hiss from Naga in agreement before he went back to admiring his new body. Azalea giggled every once in a while as her familiar was a little vain about his new looks.

Aberforth remained rooted in his spot, Azalea just used Parseltongue … sure he suspected that she _may_ inherit the skill after her unusual awakening during the adoption ritual … but that still paled in actually hearing the feared Language of the Serpents. He now knew for a fact that Azalea had the potential to be greater than her great ancestor Morgana LeFay. Morgana had been rivalled by one other than just Merlin, though her name was lost to all history … suspiciously, it was rumoured that she too could use the Language of the Serpents.

So it would stand to reason that Lord Salazar Slytherin was a descendant of that woman, whilst Lady Rowena Ravenclaw was a descendant of Morgana LeFay. If Azalea possessed even a slight inclination to the very same power as either great ancestor … then she could surpass them and write for herself a place in history. She was already almost as powerful in magical essence as himself or his brother Albus, just lacking in experience and age.

Aberforth shuddered as he thought of the power Azalea would possess in the future.

Like Abraham predicted, the Kitsune helpers were displeased that their mistress was bonded to a Naga of all things, but they all forgot their displeasure at her smile or laughter – the Kitsune were nothing but determined to continue seeing their mistress smiling and laughing.

Azalea and company stayed at the Repository for a few extra hours, so while Azalea played with her new familiar, the adults were interrogating Abraham. Though they eventually called it a day and left with a tired but happy Azalea and her familiar in tow.

 **..::..**

Azalea couldn't stop the tears that fell down her smooth cheeks as she watched her mother's body be laid to rest. Her father Amon clutched her hand in his in a show of support, as they wept for their beloved Robin.

Azalea was now 13 years old and shortly after being able to light all the candles in the church in a single moment, her mother started to lose her strength. Amon and Robin had explained that it would've happened soon after her powers matured, but Azalea would always see her mother as indestructible. She was gone now though, and a fierce determination burned in Azalea's heart.

She had learned _so_ much from the residents of the Monastery, but as she grew she also began to learn that those same residents were outcasts or wanted. There were people from all countries, Russian, French, even Bulgarian or African. There was even a Japanese couple that taught her many interesting things like Tea Ceremony or Asian Warding and Summoning. They were there as residents to escape prosecution from their own Magical Worlds … hell her Charms instructor was apparently wanted for magical experimentation – though she was an Unspeakable at the time.

No if anything, those that were wanted by a Magical Country were usually framed or innocent of their alleged crimes. However, despite the betrayals of the various countries to the now residents of the Monastery, they weren't too bitter about it. As strange as that may have sounded – they all loved Azalea like a daughter to all and it was because of the precious child that they felt content with their lives. This meant that they all went out of their ways to teach Azalea _everything_ that they knew – be it forbidden or not – and Azalea soaked it all up like a sponge.

Whether it was Azalea's heritage or not, she absorbed absolutely everything taught to her. She was just gifted in all branches of magic available. The mundane subjects weren't an exception to this power either – languages, etiquette, dance, mathematics, sciences, along with many other subjects … they all fell to Azalea's seemingly endless thirst for knowledge.

That mattered little however, as Azalea wept over her mother's body. Amon watched his adopted daughter cry her heart out and he clutched at his coat covered chest, where his heart was located.

'It won't be long now little Robin,' Amon thought as a tear escaped his usually stoic façade. 'I will be with you again, my love.'

Almost as if she could sense her father's thoughts, Azalea turned and hugged Amon tightly. Amon sighed into his daughter's embrace and ran his hand through her soft, delicate hair.

"It'll be okay, little flower," Amon soothed. "I think I should I explain everything to you Azalea."

Azalea frowned softly but otherwise nodded, whilst tightening her hold on her father. "I don't understand Father, what do you mean 'explain everything'?"

Amon sucked in a breath and shuddered under his beautiful daughter's perplexed gaze. He braced himself and ushered her away as they incinerated Robin's body. Azalea sniffled miserably as they did so, but she took comfort in her father as she took in his scent.

As they approached their home, they spotted Aberforth and the Matron speaking in hushed tones. As Azalea and Amon approached, Aberforth and the Matron stood taller and after a comforting squeeze on the shoulder from Aberforth to the Matron, she walked to Azalea. There was a tense moment of awkward silence before the Matron handed Azalea a wrapped bundle. Azalea tilted her head in confusion, but otherwise took the offered bundle from the Matron.

As Azalea carefully unwrapped the bundle, tears escaped her as it opened to reveal her mother's robe/coat. It was a deep maroon colour that would appear black if wet and in traditional robe-like fashion it was long. Azalea wasted no time in slipping her mother's robe/coat on and sniffed in the comforting smell of her mother that lingered on the article of clothing. **[AN3]**

"Y-Your mother asked me to repair this for you," the Matron sobbed quietly – she looked so much like her mother in the coat, as she was still wearing her initiate's nun-like dress. "She wanted to present this to you herself, but I'm honoured to do this for her."

Azalea shuffled in the long robe – it was rather large on her smaller frame, but it wouldn't dissuade her from wearing her mother's coat. Azalea turned to her father for his reaction, and was witness to a few more tears escaping him.

"You look lovely Azalea," Amon whispered. "Just do me a favour and keep your hair down, your mother's pigtailed look is not going to suit you."

Despite the solemn mood, Azalea giggled softly. "I won't father, I don't think I could manage the look anyway."

Amon ushered Azalea, Aberforth and the Matron into the living area and smiled fondly as Azalea asked. "Would you like some tea?"

"Yes that would be lovely, thank you Azalea dear," Aberforth smiled as the Matron nodded her agreement.

Azalea left the room to prepare the tea with a soft nod of the head.

Once she was out of hearing range, the Matron turned to Amon. "Are you sure you want to reveal what will happen to you now that Robin is gone?"

"Yes, I believe that Azalea has a right to know that I will fade soon as well," Amon nodded. "On reflection I estimate my time at a few years at most."

"I see, and your plans?" Aberforth asked. "Do you know what Azalea will do once you fade?"

"It is my hope that she'll return to Wizarding Britain," Amon finally responded after a moment of silence.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to return father," Azalea interrupted. "But I will do as you want and return if you want me to."

Amon sighed and accepted a cup of tea from his daughter – as did the Matron and Aberforth.

"If that is your plan," Aberforth started before sipping his tea. "Excellent tea my dear … where was I, oh yes … if that is your plan, I would recommend a trip to Gringotts Bank in Diagon Alley."

"Why would you recommend that sir?" she asked in confusion.

"It would be prudent of you to learn what you're to inherit from your bloodlines," Aberforth continued. "It would give you a head start for when you return permanently, as you can start to manage your finances."

"Very well," Amon nodded. "We shall go to Diagon Alley tomorrow to assess whatever you are to inherit."

Azalea sipped her own tea before simply nodding. "I understand father."

The quiet tone pierced Amon's heart, it was clear that Azalea had no desire to go, but she would do so if told to … she was nothing but obedient. Amon finished his tea and patted the seat next to him to Azalea … she sat and looked to him expectantly. Amon looked to Aberforth, who nodded solemnly before explaining to Azalea what to expect in the near future. At first, Azalea vehemently refused to believe that her father would be leaving her as well, but as time went on in the conversation, Azalea bitterly accepted the news.

"Please excuse me," Azalea muttered as she stood abruptly and fled to her room.

Amon looked his age as he watched her go and it took Aberforth patting his shoulder in a show of support.

 **..::..**

The next day a sombre Azalea numbly applied a Glamour Charm as she followed Aberforth to Gringotts Bank. The barman … Tom she belatedly recalled, had taken a fair amount of time to chat with Aberforth before noticing her. He jumped nervously and backed away from her before Aberforth calmed the man down … it appeared as though he thought she was Bellatrix Lestrange. It was the reason that she applied the Glamour Charm to herself to appear as a common teenager with brown hair and eyes.

Amon decided to allow Aberforth to go in his stead as he knew Aberforth was acquainted with the Goblin Nation.

She spied the plaque at the entrance to the bank and quickly removed the Glamour before entering, as to be respectful of their rules. The bank was thankfully empty as they walked up to the head teller, and Azalea followed her teachings in tilting her head deep enough for it to be noticeable, but subtle enough to not appear mocking or casual in nature.

"Greetings Master Teller," Azalea spoke clearly. "I have come to your establishment to lay claim to any and all vaults that I am entitled to by blood and magic."

The Goblin stared at Azalea with narrowed eyes, it was uncommon for Witches and Wizards to act appropriately in a Goblin's presence, but it was an unexpected pleasure when done correctly. The Goblin then noticed the manner of dress that the young witch was wearing and his eyes widened … a Witch Hunter Initiate was here in the bank? It had been nearly 100 years since an Emissary of the Monastery was amongst them, and so the Goblin tilted his head in polite response.

"And greetings to you Initiate, I am called Ragnok," the now named Ragnok spoke. "I bid thee welcome to this hallowed Goblin Soil."

"Then I am welcomed," Azalea replied. "May I speak freely Master Ragnok?"

"You may," grunted Ragnok in approval. It was merely formality to greet each other in such a manner before granting permission to speak in a casual manner.

"Thank you Master Ragnok," Azalea smiled before gesturing to Aberforth. "This is Lord Aberforth Dumbledore, he is here to bear witness to these events."

"The Goblin Nation recognises Lord Dumbledore as a friend to the Goblin Nation," Ragnok nodded.

"Thank you Master Ragnok," Aberforth spoke pleasantly – he was pleased to see that Azalea remembered her lessons.

"Master Ragnok," Azalea spoke up again. "As I stated earlier, I would like to claim any and all vaults that I can, I am prepared to present blood to claim."

Ragnok grunted, once again pleased by the witch's manners. "Please follow me then humans."

Azalea smiled softly and followed after Ragnok, with Aberforth trailing behind the two. They followed Ragnok to a rather extravagant room. The room was made entirely from marble with gold ingrained in majestic designs and patterns. In the very centre of the room was a single shiny table of wood, and on said table was an ornate bowl of silver, accompanied by an equally ornate silver dagger.

Following protocol, Azalea bowed to the empty room and approached table. Ragnok presented the blade to Azalea, who took the blade with another bow before slicing open her left palm without a moment's hesitation. She watched her blood flow free into the bowl, but the bowl was never once stained by the blood. The bowl absorbed every drop of her blood before Ragnok nodded and swiped his clawed finger across Azalea's left palm. The wound healed instantly and he silently retook the blade and chanted in the Goblin's tongue.

The bowl glowed and Ragnok grunted as he gestured Azalea and Aberforth to follow him. They did so and eventually found themselves in a pleasantly decorated office. Ragnok sat at the only desk and nodded to the humans, they followed the gesture and sat at the two seats on the other side of the desk.

"Formalities aside," Ragnok began. "It appears you have quite the lineage young lady."

"Thank you Master Ragnok," Azalea blushed.

"Instead of boring you with a vocal acknowledgement," Ragnok spoke. "I shall merely pass you the parchment."

Azalea accepted the parchment and gasped in surprise at the results, as did Aberforth.

 **-Bloodline Results-**

 **Name of Claimant: Azalea Dorea Senna – Formally Azalea Dorea Potter.**

 **Blood Status: Pureblood.**

 **Mother: Robin Marie Senna – Pureblood – Status: Deceased.**

 **Father: Amon John Prince – Squib – Status: Living.**

 **Sex: Female.**

 **Race: Human/Fae.**

 **Age: 13 years old.**

 **Inherited Titles:**

 **Lady Slytherin – claimable by Blood.**

 **Lady Ravenclaw – claimable by Blood.**

 **Lady Prince – claimable by Blood.**

 **Mistress LeFay (Lady Fae) – claimable by Blood.**

 **Lady Peverell – claimable by Blood.**

 **Heiress Apparent to the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Black – claimable by Blood and Magic.**

Aberforth was stunned. All the titles mentioned were as he expected bar one: Lady Prince. As far as he knew, Amon and Severus Snape were the only relatives left to the Prince Line, but then wouldn't Severus be the next in line to claim? Wait … Severus was a Half-Blood and technically, due to the ritual, Azalea was a Pureblood. Then there was the fact that Severus' mother was disowned for falling in love and marrying that muggle Tobias Snape. If Severus' mother was disowned, then Severus _couldn't_ lay claim to the Prince Fortune.

Amon may have been a Squib, but Squibs weren't removed from the Family Tree. They weren't entitled to inherit, but any child borne of a Squib (that was a Pureblood) _could_ claim. Hence Azalea's ability to inherit the title of Lady Prince.

"Master Dumbledore," Azalea licked her suddenly dry lips. "I understand my claims to the Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Fae Bloodlines … but I do not understand my claims to the Prince Blood, or the fact that I am Heiress Apparent to the Black Family."

"I can actually answer that for you," Ragnok interrupted. "Your Godfather, one Sirius Orion Black II, named you Heiress Apparent … though technically you could claim Lordship or Ladyship now as he is infertile and incapable of producing an Heir or Heiress, thus the Black Family Charter is clear … if the Heir/Heiress Apparent is willing to claim, then the current Lord or Lady cannot refute the claim."

"I-I see," Azalea stuttered in shock. "A-And the Peverell and Prince Family?"

"The Peverell Family is a mystery," Ragnok admitted. "They _did_ have a Vault here and they placed many unique items within it, but no monetary assets at all. They are an old Family and _are_ responsible for helping create the Wizengamot, so they held great sway in the politics of Magical Britain, but they simply disappeared during the pages of history. You are formally a Potter, the Potter Family can also lay claim to the Peverell Family as they are also related by blood, but as you are also Lady Slytherin, you hold a greater claim."

"O-Oh," Azalea meekly replied.

"The Prince Family? That is rather more straightforward," Ragnok continued. "Your father's full name is Amon Prince. While he is a Squib, you are a Pureblood on paper, therefore you have Right of Claim. To my knowledge, you have an uncle named Severus Snape whose mother was disowned from the Family as she married a muggle."

"Thank you for explaining that for me Master Ragnok," Azalea thanked sincerely. "My only other question … it says that I am a Pureblood, but it also says that I am a Fae – does that not make me a Half-breed?"

"Normally my lady," Ragnok responded. "However while Mistress LeFay was a human by birth, she was granted the blood of the Fae by earning the respect of the original Fae Species. Fae, as you know are extinct. Therefore by blood, you are a Fae due to your ancestor. You are a human, but you're also a Fae."

Azalea frowned in thought. "Are all Fae extinct?"

"Technically you are one of two bloodlines that are of the Fae," Ragnok replied. "As you are Lady of the Fae, you are entitled to know that there is one other family that are of the Fae. The Lovegood Bloodline are also of the Fae my lady."

"Lovegood …" Azalea pondered. "I hope to meet the Family then."

"I am sure you will," Ragnok chuckled. "The Heiress is quite in tune with the unseen magicks of the world … as were the original Fae."

Azalea smiled softly. "I do believe I shall try to meet them soon."

"Back to business," Ragnok interrupted again. "The Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Peverell Families have no homes as they either resided at Hogwarts or simply disappeared, but the Mistress LeFay had a hidden Sanctum that can only be accessed by you as her Heiress. The Prince Family Manor was destroyed in Voldemort's War and the Black Family have several properties. The Black Manor is in disrepair as it has been unused for far too long, and all that remains is their Country home in France and the Black Ancestral Home known as Grimmauld Place."

Ragnok paused to let Azalea absorb that information before continuing. "This parchment has the status of your vaults."

 **-Vault Status of Claimant-**

 **Vault Number 001 – LeFay Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 00 Galleons – 00 Sickles – 00 Knuts.**

 **Residences: Sanctum of the Fae – Location Hidden, The Repository – Located in the Underground.**

 **Family Heirlooms: LeFay Journals, Ancient Fae Texts, Morgana's Codex, Grimoire of the Fae and Handwritten Tomes. Morgana's Bone Staff.**

 **Other Assets: Various Collections of Tomes and Scrolls, Jewels and Treasures.**

 **Vault Number 004 – Slytherin Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 19,266,787,459 Galleons – 90 Sickles – 01 Knuts.**

 **Residences: Hogwarts Castle – Ownership of 25%.**

 **Ancestral Heirlooms: Lord Slytherin's Locket – Whereabouts unknown, Slytherin's Wand – located at Hogwarts Castle.**

 **Other Assets: Multiple Scrolls and Tomes, along with the Personal Journal and handwritten notes on Parselmagic. Slytherin's Family Grimoire.**

 **Vault Number 005 – Ravenclaw Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 00 Galleons – 00 Sickles – 00 Knuts.**

 **Residences: Hogwarts Castle – Ownership of 25%.**

 **Ancestral Heirlooms: Ravenclaw's Diadem – Whereabouts Unknown, Ravenclaw's Staff – located at Hogwarts Castle.**

 **Other Assets: Ravenclaw's Library, along with the Personal Journal and notes of original spells and wards. Ravenclaw's Family Grimoire.**

 **Vault Number 006 – Peverell Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 00 Galleons – 00 Sickles – 00 Knuts.**

 **Residences: None.**

 **Family Heirlooms: The Elder Wand – bonded to Azalea Dorea Senna, The Resurrection Stone – stolen by Gaunt Family – whereabouts unknown, and Peverell Invisibility Cloak – in possession of Potter Family.**

 **Other Assets: Peverell Family Grimoire and Inventions.**

 **Vault Number 025 – Black Family Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 879,324,163 Galleons – 657 Sickles – 00 Knuts.**

 **Residences: Black Country House – France, 12 Grimmauld Place – London.**

 **Family Heirlooms: Black Family Codex of Blood Magicks, and Black Ancestral Wands.**

 **Other Assets: Black Family Grimoire, Various Tomes and Scrolls and Cursed Items.**

 **Vault Number 075 – Prince Vault:**

 **Monetary Assets: 189,834,576 Galleons – 65 Sickles – 00 Knuts.**

 **Residences: None.**

 **Family Heirlooms: Prince Family Potions Codex – in possession of Severus Snape.**

 **Other Assets: Prince Family Grimoire and Various Tomes and Scrolls.**

"As you can see," Ragnok broke the silence. "Most of your inherited titles don't possess any Monetary Assets, but they are rich in Knowledge."

Azalea's inner thirst for knowledge reared its head as she excitedly bounced in her seat for a moment, before she caught and composed herself. Ragnok merely chuckled as he understood her excitement.

"In regards to the Families _with_ Monetary Assets," Ragnok prompted to the now sheepish girl. "The Black Family has a Goblin Financier, but the Slytherin and Prince Vault does not. I would recommend rectifying this as soon as possible."

Azalea knew the Goblin was correct. Managing the Assets now was the best course of action, but other than the few encounters with the Goblin Bounty Office in the Underground and now with Ragnok, she knew no Goblins.

The answer was simple in this case.

"May I humbly request that you, Master Ragnok, handle the affairs of each Vault?" Azalea asked quietly. "And I would also request to meet the Black Family Financier."

For the umpteenth time since their meeting, Ragnok was stunned. The young Lady wanted _him_ to manage her many Vaults? Ragnok wasn't stupid, he remembered the accounts of Morgana of the Fae – as told by his own father, and he could see the resemblance. If he didn't know any better, Ragnok would say that the child was the reincarnation of the Lady of the Fae.

Ragnok's eyes widened at the thought and he narrowed his gaze at the fidgeting witch. Her magic was pure, purer than any he had sensed in centuries. This girl _was_ of the Blood of Old. Nevertheless, his mind returned to her request … the honour and prestige that would come from handling those Vaults was unfathomable … there was no way he could pass this offer up.

"I humbly accept your most gracious offer my lady," Ragnok bowed, still in shock. "I-I shall be honoured to call you 'Friend of the Goblin Nation'. As the new Lady of the Fae, you'd automatically be granted that honour, but know now that you have earned that honour on your own merit."

Azalea swallowed her own shock and merely bowed her head low. "Thank you Master Ragnok."

"Oh no," Ragnok instantly replied. "As Friend of the Goblin Nation, you may address me as simply Ragnok, and you mustn't bow to me."

"I will not disregard decorum," Azalea declared firmly – earning her another grin from Ragnok.

"Then you still prove yourself worthy," Ragnok acknowledged. "I will call upon the Black Family Financier, he is named Sharptooth."

"Please Master Ragnok," Azalea begged. "Remain once he has arrived, I do not trust easily and I have met no other Goblins sans yourself or the Goblins of the Underground."

Ragnok merely bowed. "I would be honoured to assist you my lady."

Ragnok left to summon Sharptooth and Azalea slumped into her chair once alone with her teacher.

"That was intense," Azalea sighed tiredly.

"You have done well Azalea," Aberforth soothed. "I am proud of you for following decorum."

Azalea blushed but then frowned. "Did I do the right thing master?"

Aberforth chuckled before revealing the identity of who Ragnok really was. "Azalea … Ragnok is King of the Goblin Nation."

"W-What?" she stuttered. "Oh Morgana, I didn't insult him by requesting him to manage my Vaults … did I?"

"Oh no, my dear," Aberforth soothed once more. "Ragnok does not consider himself above the Goblin's Pact to manage the finances of the Wizarding World. In fact, he is only King because of the number of Vaults that he already manages. The fact that you asked him to manage some of the oldest Vaults in Gringott's history, means you've secured his place as King."

"So … so I did well then?" she asked incredulously.

"Very well," Aberforth agreed. "I daresay you've made an advantageous alliance, you do your Slytherin Bloodline proud."

Azalea blushed once more but immediately schooled her features as Ragnok returned with a downright savage looking Goblin in tow.

"My lady, this is Sharptooth," Ragnok introduced.

"I welcome you Master Sharptooth," Azalea replied as she dipped her head respectively. "I am honoured to meet you."

Sharptooth looked Azalea up and down in a rude manner before dismissing her presence.

"This cannot be the Claimant," Sharptooth sneered.

"Search her magical essence before judging her," Ragnok warned with a growl.

It threw Sharptooth for a moment before he waved dismissively again. "I do not care for her essence, she is a mere human … nothing special."

Azalea felt a boiling anger surge from within her … this Goblin dared to dismiss her, she had followed Goblin protocol and he had dismissed her so casually … this could not stand!

"I am Azalea, Lady of the Fae," Azalea hissed as her magic surged with her anger. "And you have insulted me Goblin Master Sharptooth. I find your manners deplorable and I am not pleased in the slightest."

Sharptooth's sneer faded quickly as he felt Azalea's magic surge … the purity of her magic made her claim true … and the magic and blood within her also deemed her claim to the Black Family legitimate … oh dear.

"F-Forgive me my lady," Sharptooth stuttered.

Azalea interrupted any more excuses from the begging Goblin. "Even now you abandon decorum and _beg_ to me … you are not even a Goblin. I release you from your service to the Black Family!"

Sharptooth almost fainted at the dense magic that had descended upon the room, but Azalea continued. "King Ragnok, I would ask of you to take up the Black Family Vaults on my behalf as well, will you accept my request?"

The savage grin that made its way onto Ragnok's face told those present his answer and Sharptooth _knew_ he had screwed up. "I would be most honoured to take up the Black Family Vaults, my lady."

"Then it is now so," Azalea spoke – unsure of where the words were coming from. Beside her – a startled Aberforth was speechless at the display of authority being shown to him.

"So mote it be," Azalea and Ragnok spoke at the same time.

"Sharptooth … you are dismissed," Ragnok ordered.

Sharptooth all but fled from the office, his metaphorical tail between his legs … all the while, Ragnok grinned savagely.

'Today has been productive,' Ragnok thought, his savage grin growing. 'I have secured my reign for the rest of my days.'

Azalea felt her anger leave her and she gasped tiredly. "I apologise Master Ragnok."

"You have nothing to apologise for, my lady," Ragnok responded. "He got what he deserved for dismissing a Friend of the Goblin Nation … his punishment from his peers is still to come."

Ragnok watched Azalea slump in exhaustion and he furrowed his wrinkled brow, she was powerful, but she was also young. "If you would please accept your Family Rings."

Azalea glanced nervously at Aberforth as Ragnok slid an ornate chest across his desk. The Family Rings were as ornate as the chest and Azalea grimaced at the thought of wearing such expensive looking jewellery … what if she ruined them?

Reverently she took out the first ring and glanced at her teacher.

"You slide it on your right ring finger," Aberforth informed her.

Azalea stared at the ring before sliding it on. It was the Slytherin Family Ring and was made of silver. It was designed to look like a coiling snake with its mouth open to strike, an emerald was situated inside the snake's open mouth. The ring suddenly became animated and lunged, managing to prick her finger and take into itself her blood.

"Relax my lady," Ragnok calmed the alarmed girl. "It is the ring's way of verifying that you are of the Slytherin Bloodline."

Azalea nodded to show she understood before watching in mesmerisation as the ring uncurled and stretched across her right ring finger to become a ring that stretched across her entire finger like a curled snake.

"W-Wow," Azalea mumbled. "An enchanted ring … it's beautiful."

"And it's functional as well," Ragnok interjected. "It's charmed to protect you from poisons and other lethal toxins."

Azalea smiled and spent a moment more to marvel at the Charm-work inlaid into the Ring. Ragnok cleared his throat and Azalea jumped in her seat … how embarrassing – being caught in her own little world. She reached into the box to take the Ravenclaw Family Ring. Like the Slytherin Ring, it was made of silver, but it was designed to look as though it was a Raven's Claw holding a pure sapphire. Like the Slytherin Ring, it too took her blood but it remained on her finger and did not animate itself – instead just pricking her finger once placed.

Azalea squeaked in surprise as the Ravenclaw Ring _melted_ into the Slytherin Ring.

"Do not be alarmed Azalea," Aberforth spoke. "It will show whatever Ring you wish once you have accepted them all."

"The Ravenclaw Ring will help protect you from mind magicks," Ragnok intoned impatiently. "Please continue my lady."

The Black Family Ring was also made of silver, but a stone of pure obsidian was marked by an elegant swirl at the top of the Ring. It bore the faint picture of a Fleur-de-lune in the stone that glowed as it was placed securely on her finger. Once she'd done so, the Fleur-de-lune glowed brightly and remained that way as it too melted into the Slytherin Ring.

"That is magic deeming you worthy of the Black Family," Aberforth explained. "You were already accepted by blood but magic must be in agreement as Sirius still lives as a Steward of the Blacks now."

"The Black Ring will enhance your protection against poisons and toxins," Ragnok informed.

Azalea nodded and continued by taking the Prince Family Ring out. It was almost identical to the Black Family Ring, except that its stone was placed in a thorn-like pattern. Ironic considering that within the obsidian jewel, was the motif of a rose on a shield – the Prince Family's crest. The Shield glowed red as she slipped it on and only settled as it sat there for a tense moment.

"The Prince Family protects you from any dangerous plants and organisms," Ragnok dutifully informed. "There is a reason that they rivalled the Longbottom Family in Herbology."

Azalea nodded again and once it too had melted into the Slytherin Ring, she took the Peverell Family Ring out. It was a simple silver band with an equally simple jewel, much like an opal but somehow different. It had the strange symbol of a circle and a single line inside of a triangle on the jewel.

"The Symbol of the Deathly Hallows," gasped Azalea in reverence.

Aberforth's eyes narrowed as he too gazed at the image … it was faint and glowed with an almost otherworldly power. 'There is more to that ring that meets the eye.'

"Admittedly … I do not know what protections this Ring offers you," Ragnok grunted in frustration. "There are old magicks ingrained into it though, so you will have to discover their meaning yourself."

Azalea grinned at the challenge and nodded. This time however, once the ring had joined its brethren on her finger, it had the strangest effect on the Slytherin Ring as the emerald now glowed with that same otherworldly power. 'Strange, I really can't wait to discover the Ring's secrets.'

The only ring remaining was the oldest there … the LeFay ring.

Azalea gasped and raised her left hand to her heart … it was gorgeous.

"The Ring is made of a metal that no longer exists," Ragnok spoke in awe. "It is made of Mithril and set with white stone of adamant … both no longer exist and as such, they are some the most precious materials in the world. Ironically it is the opposite of the Resurrection Stone of the Deathly Hallows in power."

"Its name is …" Ragnok began, only to be interrupted by Azalea who appeared to be in a trance.

"Nenya … its name is Nenya," Azalea whispered in pure awe.

"Yes," Ragnok continued. "Also known as the White Ring, the Adamant Ring and the Ring of Water … Nenya's power lies in preservation, protection, and concealment from evil." **[AN4]**

Nenya was glowing as Azalea held it and instinctively slid it onto her right ring finger to join the others. Only this time … the Slytherin Ring actually _hissed_ in shock and melted into Nenya instead of the other way round. Nenya glowed brilliantly as it sat on her finger; it looked to be made of ethereal looking white gold, which she now knew to be Mithril. The White Stone of Adamant set into the elegantly crafted open flowered appearance glowed brightly and Azalea felt complete.

Ragnok eyed the reaction and watched as Azalea relaxed completely … this girl was definitely Morgana of the Fae's reincarnation if _that_ was the reaction from sliding on the ring.

"I feel at peace," Azalea sighed in bliss.

Aberforth opted to remain silent as he sat mesmerised by the Ring's power. Ragnok noticed at snapped his fingers to get their attention.

"Be at ease Lord Dumbledore," Ragnok spoke. "It is known as a Ring of Power for a reason."

Aberforth instantly snapped his Occlumency Shields to full power and apologised for his brief lapse in attention. Ragnok merely waved him off and shifted his gaze back to Azalea – who appeared to be _listening_ to the Ring.

'The Secrets of the Fae,' Ragnok thought in suspicion. 'They are still a mystery to the mortal species of the Magical World … whatever power lies inside of this child seems to have awakened the White Ring from its slumber.'

"Our business is now complete," Ragnok nodded with an air of finality. "I shall escort you to your Vaults to retrieve any items that you desire."

Azalea looked up to Ragnok, and Ragnok failed to supress a gasp as her eyes glowed with power he hadn't sensed since the time of the Ancient Ones.

"That would be wonderful Master Ragnok," Azalea spoke in her musical tone. "I would like to visit the Vaults of LeFay, Slytherin and Ravenclaw."

"I-It will be done, my lady," Ragnok gulped, before rushing out of the room to prepare a cart.

Like Ragnok, Aberforth was stunned as he gazed at Azalea. She seemed almost ethereal … as if she could vanish into nothingness.

"A-Azalea, are you feeling okay?" he inquired.

Azalea turned her powerful gaze to her teacher and smiled softly. "I feel complete Master Dumbledore, like a piece of my soul has returned to me."

"I-I see," Aberforth merely spoke in reply.

Thankfully, he was saved from continuing as Ragnok returned.

"Your cart awaits my lady," Ragnok informed.

"Let's depart then," Azalea replied in her soft tone. "I wish to retrieve the journals and Grimoires of my ancestors."

 **..::..**

 **-One Year Later-**

Sirius Black huffed tiredly as he jumped over a stack of crates that his prey had knocked over. He was hunting a particular nasty piece of work: a Russian Dark Wizard by the name of Dimitri Chekov – the fact that he had somehow gotten a hold of a Relic was also troubling.

A relic was a piece of magic in physical form and if used in certain dark rituals … it had the possibility of tripling one's magic core – though they sometimes went by their other name – Seeds of the Craft.

Sirius wheezed out in exhaustion, the man had been running now for about two hours.

'Merlin this man can run! Either Russian Dark Wizards possessed incredible stamina,' Sirius thought tiredly. "Or I am _so_ out of shape."

Sirius growled in frustration as the man darted into _another_ alleyway, though he halted suddenly in surprise, as the man was stood frozen in the middle of the alley, quivering in sheer terror. Sirius couldn't understand what the man screamed in Russian into the darkness in front of him, nor did he care as his orders were clear: capture or kill the man.

Dimitri switched to English and became almost hysterical as she shouted into the darkness of the alleyway. "I-It's you isn't it?"

He received no answer and he began unleashing hexes and curses into the darkness.

Dimitri spat into the alleyway as he continued. "I demand that you show yourself!"

Sirius thought the man was going insane at first, but that was only until he heard the soft clacking of heeled shoes that hollowly echoed through the previously dead silent alley. It wasn't long before Sirius was able to make out a shadowy silhouette and minutes later, a young lady dressed in a dress reminisce of a nun's robes with an outer muggle style coat of a rich dark red-brown colour stood completely still in front of the two men.

Chekov laughed in a grating way and turned mockingly towards the girl. " _You_ are the one they sent … a little girl?"

The girl merely nodded once, before taking another step forward. "It appears that the Seeds of the Craft have indeed been discovered by your master Lord Voldemort … Mr Dimitri Chekov."

Her voice was like velvet or silk against the skin and held a musical, magical tone that reminded Sirius of a Siren's Song – it was completely irresistible. Chekov shook his head and wasted no time in attacking – far quicker than Sirius could register, Chekov had unleashed a Killing Curse at the young woman. Sirius cried out for her to dodge but the girl remained still.

'Doesn't she know that he's using the Killing Curse?' Sirius thought fearfully. "Dodge, move, do something … anything!"

Whatever else Sirius wanted to say died in his throat as the young lady's eyes suddenly glowed. A wall of pure green fire materialized and _absorbed_ the Killing Curse. A ball of pure green fire that mesmerized Sirius then appeared out of nowhere and latched on to the man's wand arm.

Chekov howled in sheer agony as he and Sirius both bore witness as Chekov's arm suddenly vaporised in the blink of an eye – another flash of fire appeared and destroyed his other arm as again Chekov thrashed in sheer pain.

"P-Please … make it stop," Dimitri screamed in terror, reaching out to Sirius in desperation.

Sirius remained still – stunned that the formerly proud and incredibly powerful dark wizard shamelessly grovelled and begged for mercy from the young woman. Sirius and Chekov both glanced at the young woman and cringed upon seeing her emotionless expression, in his desperation, Chekov's hysterical cries changed.

"W-WHY? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?" he screamed as froth appeared at the corner of his mouth, indicating that his body was still burning … but from the inside.

"What gives you the right?" he sobbed as spasms rocked his body, his next question barely louder than a whisper. "W-Why are you doing this to me?"

"You fell to the darkness," she spoke softly with her emotionless face – it contrasted greatly with her mystical voice. "I'm doing this because you're a wanted Dark Wizard!"

Chekov's final feeling was pain of imaginable levels. It was stronger than any Cruciatus Curse cast on him by his master Lord Voldemort … and he screamed to the heavens as he was burned to Ashes.

The young woman turned and calmly retrieved the Relic before she pressed a soft, delicate finger to a muggle communications device.

"It is done," she simply spoke, "Mission accomplished Ma'am."

There was a brief silence before she replied, "Understood."

The young woman pressed the device's button again before she turned and made to leave. That was when Sirius _finally_ snapped out of it and called to her. "W-What are you … no, who are you … what's your name? My name is Sirius Orion Black."

Sirius managed to make out the girl's adopted amused smile – though it disappeared seconds later as she responded with a respectful head tilt. "My name is Azalea Dorea Senna LeFay."

Sirius couldn't stop the gasp that escaped his mouth.

"And I … am a Witch," Azalea declared proudly.

 **..::..**

Sirius gasped in shock – it couldn't be – Azalea … their precious Azalea was standing in front of him.

It suddenly wasn't so impossible to believe as the young lady in front of him shared a similar aura to the one that their Azalea possessed as a young baby. For once, Sirius was actually _grateful_ to his Family's Blood Legacy. For now – thanks to his blood – he could recognise the essence of the young lady's magic. His blood screamed at him and he knew for certain … he'd found her.

"A-Azalea," Sirius whispered as he took a step forward and raised his wand. "Y-You're here … I've found you at last! James and Lily will be overjoyed … you can finally return home."

In response, Azalea took a step backwards and she stood defensively – prepared for any attack from the Auror in front of her.

Thanks to the powers of the Craft and the Old Magic running through her, she could see that his heart was of the light but his blood was dark. The concept might've appeared strange to other Hunters, but to her she saw that his magic was warm and cheerful despite the dark power that resided in his blood … and the fact that his magic was familiar to her own meant that he was someone that she had spent time with before she happened to be abandoned on the steps of the Monastery.

"Please do not assume to be familiar with me Sir Auror," Azalea responded blankly. "Your magic resonates harmoniously with my own, but I do not know you."

Sirius flinched and whined pitifully, much like his animagius form. "A-Azalea … please remember me … you know me! It's Sirius … I'm your Godfather."

Azalea closed her eyes for a moment and recalled her longest memories. Thanks to her heritage, she _did_ remember Sirius Black – especially since he was the Steward of the Blacks – though she found herself remembering him more clearly by his nickname. "Padfoot?"

Sirius's head jerked up and tears were visible as he nodded quickly in joy. Azalea blinked when an image flashed over his … it was a dog. A Grim to be exact and his tail was wagging in delight.

"You remember me," Sirius practically shouted in joy. "Now that you remember me we can go home! I can't believe it … step closer so I can see your face."

Azalea debated the action as a Witch Hunter needed to remain faceless unless necessary and her dearly departed mother Robin had often mentioned the benefits of an unknown identity. She disregarded the notion and stepped forward slowly – her clacking heeled shoes echoing in the silent alleyway.

Sirius had to resist the reflex to raise his wand to attack as Azalea stepped forward – her face now visible to him. The reason being was that she looked like a green eyed Bellatrix more than either of her parents … true they all thought that before and they already knew that her dormant Black Blood was the cause, but it was still unnerving to be face to face with a mini-Bella.

There were differences now though. Her hair curled gracefully and was a raven black, thus being far darker than any of the Blacks. Her skin was also a creamy pale that also didn't belong to anyone that she was related to, and her cheeks were far more prominent than he remembered.

Azalea almost cracked a smile as she watched his facial features … it had already been pointed out by her teachers and fellow hunters that she bared an eerily close resemblance to one dark witch named Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black – though she apparently looked more like her ancestor Rowena Ravenclaw or Morgana of the Fae – but they'd theorized that the Blacks must've been related somehow. The visit to Gringotts Wizarding Bank in London had proven useful after all. King Ragnok's confirmation was all they needed – but ever since then, the only contact she'd had with the Goblins was to their field office in the Underground – when they collected on the officially sanctioned bounties posted by the Ministry of Magic.

"I will not go with you Auror Black," Azalea spoke – breaking him out of his stupor. "As an official Hunter registered to the Monastery, you have neither the right nor the authority to apprehend me."

Sirius furrowed his brow in thought. It was true – he didn't have that authority but it was their little Azalea and she was right there, standing in front of him … he had to at least try.

"I-If you won't come willingly, then I'll have to subdue you by force Azalea," Sirius responded shakily. "I don't want to do this, but your family misses you. We've been searching for you for so long."

"Any attempt to subdue me will be met with a measure of self-defence Auror Black. You are making a grave error in judgement if you believe that your power," Azalea's eyes suddenly glowed eerily similar to the Killing Curse, "Compares to mine."

Sirius ignored the jab at his power and sent a blasting hex at her – his intention to knock her unconscious. Azalea stood completely still and Sirius started to worry but just as it was about to hit her, the entire beam of magic was dispersed by a flash of hauntingly beautiful green fire.

He grit his teeth and started weaving through spells, getting faster and more precise with every strike but it mattered little as each and every spell, jinx or hex was destroyed or absorbed by the flames that were summoned by Azalea. Each and every time the flames appeared, they lit up the alleyway and Sirius couldn't help but be mesmerized as he gazed into the eyes of his Goddaughter.

She was so powerful and her magic was so pure … it honestly frightened the Black as his very blood screamed in fear of the purity, yet at the same time it was drawn to it. It was as if the dark essence of his family's blood was scared, but the true essence that was dormant was crying out to it … craving the purity in her magic.

Sirius was about to step it up when the sound of a gunshot echoed through the alley. Sirius screamed in pain as his connection to his magic was severed harshly. Sirius looked down to the newly acquired bullet wound that he had in his leg and he gritted his teeth to try to stop his cries. He tried to call upon his magic to dull the pain, but again he found that it wouldn't respond.

Sirius started to panic … why couldn't he feel his magic? This shouldn't be possible.

"Are you alright Azalea?" a deep voice cut through the air. "I was detained by my target … are you injured?"

"No father," Azalea instantly replied.

'Father, this is the man that raised Azalea?' Sirius thought through his pain.

Sirius raised his head; ignoring the pain in his leg as well as the empty feeling in his very soul at the loss of feeling his magic. He gazed upon the man and all but choked on his breath as he gazed upon an older and deadlier looking Severus Snape … were the two men related somehow?

"I am uninjured Father," Azalea soothed the man again – this time in a more embarrassed tone as the Snape look-a-like looked her over feverishly. Sirius did note that the man's muggle weapon … a gun was still aimed at his head – ready to kill him should he move. "I was merely attempting to stop this Auror from trying to apprehend me … he wasn't taking the hint father."

"Excuse me?" the man responded as his gaze returned to Sirius. "Does he know that this can be considered an act of aggression by the DMLE (Department of Magical Law Enforcement) against the Monastery – an organisation that was formed long before their DMLE?"

"No, he clearly ignored that rule," a feminine voice rang out with authority.

Amon, with his gun still aimed at Sirius shifted his gaze to the new voice … it belonged to a stern looking woman with aged red hair and a monocle on her face.

"Ah Amelia … I see that you felt the disconnection of your Auror?" Amon replied blankly. "Don't worry … the effects of our new Magic Bullets wear off after 24 hours."

Amelia Bones was not the least bit happy as she gazed upon the downed form of her best Auror Sirius Black. He and his partner James Potter were often called the unstoppable duo for their remarkable teamwork and personal duelling styles – their skills honed and refined by the last Wizarding War.

Amelia then glanced at the young lady that was the very picture of grace and poise as she stood there looking at Sirius with a thoughtful look on her face

'Her face … why is there a young Bellatrix Lestrange walking around?' Amelia thought in shock.

"Who are you? Identify yourself!" Amelia demanded rudely. "I know Amon due to our … history and you're dressed like a Hunter, but you look like Bellatrix Lestrange. The only reason I haven't taken action is due to my own visit to Azkaban just yesterday … I know Bellatrix is locked up."

Azalea blinked and tore her gaze from Sirius to Amelia; she frowned at the rudeness of the line of questioning and glared at Amelia – her eyes glowing with power that unnerved Amelia. "You have no authority over me Madam Bones … not only have you been nothing but rude since your arrival but you also seem to be forgetting where your jurisdiction ends."

Madam Bones took a deep breath – the young lady was right and she had been nothing but rude. "I apologise Miss – I had no right to be so rude, might I enquire as to your name?"

Azalea nodded politely. "I accept your apology Madam Bones and to answer your enquiry …"

Azalea trailed off to shift her body into a traditional curtsey. "I am Azalea Dorea Senna LeFay."

Amelia's eyes widened in shock, "Then you _are_ the missing Potter child. We've been searching for you for almost thirteen years now."

Azalea tilted her head and glanced to Amon. "Is there proof of this Father?"

Amon lowered his gun and nodded in thought. "It's possible … but since we performed the Blood Adoption and Binding Rituals – it's difficult to tell without the Goblins of Gringotts aid."

They faced each other in a sort of silent stand off before Amon re-holstered his fire arm. "Let's go Azalea … we will contact the Ministry via Madam Bones tomorrow."

Amelia nodded in approval and granted them the right to leave – though Sirius looked as though he'd swallowed a lemon – he was not pleased, but it wasn't his place to question his superior commander.

Azalea took hold of Amon and then used a Portkey to leave the area.

 **..::..**

"JAMES … JAMES … JAMES!" Sirius shouted as he swept into the room via the Floo Network. James had had a day off.

James Potter came bursting into the room, wand drawn as if preparing for an attack.

"Merlin Sirius, calm down … what's wrong with you?" James shouted back in anger. "You gave Lils and I a heart attack."

Sirius had the decency to look abashed but he instantly perked up seconds later as he uttered three words that turned James' life upside down. "I found her."

James Charlus Potter raised his eyebrows, but then his eyes widened as far as they could go. "Y-You found her?"

Sirius nodded his head franticly before he regaled James with the tale of how she had easily taken down Dimitri Chekov. James choked on a breath at that revelation.

Dimitri Chekov was a B-Ranked Dark Wizard. He had been a confirmed soldier for Lord Voldemort after he'd turned on his Russian Auror Unit and defected halfway through the war.

The ranking system was easy, the various Nations that made up the Magical Defence Network, established after Grindelwald's War ranked Magical criminals by their power and crimes.

First there were the D-Ranked Criminals: They were your common petty thieves and abusers of Magic in the muggle world. Their bounties were usually loose change for the experienced Hunters but still worth between 500 – 2,500 Galleons.

Second were the C-Ranked Criminals: They were the nasty ones, minor in their crimes but usually had some ailment that added to their powers; Werewolves, Vampires, Veela … they were usually in this category if they'd committed a severe crime. Their bounties were worth 2,500 – 4,500 Galleons.

Third were the B-Rank Criminals: Like Dimitri Chekov, they were as dark as they came but still low to mid-level in the power department. Their bounties worth between 4,500 – 7,500 Galleons.

Fourth were the A-Ranked Criminals: They were mid to high level dark witches and wizards. Bellatrix Lestrange and the rest of the Inner Circle of Voldemort were A-Ranked for their power and knowledge surpassed B-Ranked Criminals such as Dimitri Chekov. Their bounties worth between 7,500 – 15,000 Galleons.

And finally there were the S-Ranked Criminals: They were the fully fledged Dark Lords and Ladies … Dark Lord Grindelwald and Dark Lord Voldemort were in this category and often had a 'Flee if possible' warning on them for Hunters that lacked the license to hunt such high ranked criminals.

If he was to be technical however … there _was_ another Class – SS-Ranked: Not many witches and wizards _ever_ made this class, the only exceptions worth mentioning were Morgana LeFay and Methuselah. They were both considered the only SS-Ranked Dark Ladies in history and in terms of power, only legendary witches and wizards could match them … such as the Hogwarts Founders, the Peverell Brothers, Nicholas Flemel and Merlin … and perhaps Albus Dumbledore.

And for his little girl to effortlessly defeat a B-Ranked Criminal with both wandless and wordless magic? Well, James could hardly fathom how strong his sweet, little Azalea had gotten. He continued to listen to Sirius as he explained the one Azalea had called 'Father' and their deal with Amelia Bones to report to the DMLE Headquarters the following day.

"You said that the man, Amon – he looked like Snape?" James questioned whilst deep in thought.

"Yeah, it scared the shit out of me," Sirius spoke as he put on a show of shivering. "He looked exactly like how Snape would look when he's older … less greasy though."

James Potter pondered that statement – despite their shaky childhood, Snape would never take their daughter and not return her or inform them … well, he'd inform Lily, since they _were_ friends again. Whilst James was in thought, Lily and Henry had entered the room after hearing the yelling and excited shouting. Sirius explained the story to them and the reactions were different for each of them.

Lily teared up and openly cried – her precious daughter had been found at last. Her thoughts automatically drifted to imagining how she looked, did she like boys or girls, was she happy?

Henry on the other hand was feeling excited – his little sister had finally been found and she sounded _so_ powerful. True he did felt slightly jealous of her apparent skill and power, but the feeling of pride overtook his moment of jealously. He was about to start his third year at Hogwarts and he began to entertain the thoughts of he and his sister, both in Gryffindor, both on the Quidditch Team and both kicking the Slytherin's arses by breaking records … all of it together – just like it should be.

"And you should see how beautiful she is James!" Sirius exclaimed, thus gaining the attention of all those present. "True she really resembles Bellatrix but she's gorgeous nonetheless ... and her voice is like a Siren's Song. She's definitely got the Black Family traits … you'll have to use a pole to fend off all the boys."

James and Lily coughed violently but it was Lily that spoke. "S-She looks like Bellatrix? I know there was _some_ resemblance when she was younger but if what you say is true … then she really has inherited more from the Black Family line from James's mother Dorea Potter nee Black than we thought."

Sirius just nodded sagely. "Yep … she's definitely a Black. Although, she looks different as well – she has higher cheekbones, her hair is raven black and her skin is fairer."

James hummed in thought as he went over Sirius' tale. "You said that that Amon man mentioned Adoption Rituals … perhaps _that_ explains the differences in appearance."

"That makes sense," Lily easily agreed. "Adoption Rituals are tricky that way."

"Wait … you said that she and this Amon person are going to be at the Ministry tomorrow?" Henry exclaimed excitedly.

James and Lily instantly caught on to where their son was going with his train of thought … they could formally re-introduce themselves and discuss their options.

"We'll all go tomorrow and officially escort them to the DMLE," James declared passionately. "We _need_ to talk to this _Amon_ anyway."

The other three just nodded in agreement … they'd see Azalea again soon.

 **..::..**

Azalea gently held Amon's hand and hummed a tune that her mother Robin had often hummed before. "It's okay Father … if it's your time to be with mother then I understand."

She spoke gently as if to not startle the man lying in the bed next to her seat. "I know that it means that my time with the Monastery has come to an end … even if you and Mother emancipated me with the Blood Ritual those seven years ago."

Azalea would be lying if she feared for her future without her father, sure she knew she had titles and money to fall on, but that didn't change the feeling of dread within her. Her White Ring glowed and soothed her soul and mind, but her father was still her father.

Amon sighed tiredly. "I shouldn't have insisted on going with you on your first B-Ranked Mission. I knew that you could've handled it on your own but … I guess I wanted one last hunt before I walked through the veil to be with my Robin."

"I understand Father … fear not, I shall go to the Ministry tomorrow on my own and speak with Madam Bones … it's time you stop exerting yourself. I worried for you every time we went on Hunts."

Amon chuckled in his deep voice, though he gasped after that in pain. "I'm sorry my little flower, but a father will always protect their little girl."

Azalea blushed cutely. "Father … I …"

"Hush Azalea, my time has come to an end. I am proud of you … my little flower," Amon whispered tiredly. "Before I depart I have something from Robin that I was to present to you on the time of my passing."

Amon weakly undid his shirt and unclasped the necklace from around his neck before passing it to Azalea … it was Robin's cross – warped by the Seeds of the Craft from all of her missions.

"T-This is for you Azalea," Amon wheezed, his time at hand. "Remember to stay true to yourself … m-my l-little f-flow …"

He never finished his sentence as he finally passed through the veil between life and death … he was going to be with her mother Robin now.

"Fare the well … Father," Azalea whispered before she found herself unable to hold back her emotions.

She wailed in despair and pain as she held her father's hand to her cheek, whispering goodbyes and farewells over and over again. "I-I love you father … mother … rest in p-peace together at last."

That was how the Matron and Aberforth found her, whispering pitifully to her father's corpse … the Matron and Aberforth both gazed upon the young girl that had forever etched herself into their lives and the lives and hearts of the residents of the Monastery.

Their hearts ached and cried out for the child.

"Azalea," the Matron prodded gently. "Azalea … child, we must prepare the departure ceremony and you must steel your heart. I'm not asking you to forget them … just to keep them in your heart and let their memory power the flames that burn inside you. Now come – let's get you ready … your new life begins tomorrow."

Azalea nodded mutely and stood gracefully, she turned to the Matron and Aberforth and smiled softly, though sadly. "You're right Matron … their memory will live on in my heart."

The Matron nodded and gestured to the door … Azalea nodded but stopped to clasp the necklace around her neck.

Aberforth gasped softly as he gazed upon the piece of jewellery. "It suits you my dear, now you must get ready … you're not allowed to see the Departure Ceremony – as is the custom, but you can busy yourself with getting ready for your meeting tomorrow."

Azalea nodded and after a soft kiss goodbye to her father's forehead, she left the room to pack … without her parents, she had to move on and her new life in Wizarding Britain awaited her.

 **..::..**

James, Lily and Henry all waited by the DMLE Floo Port.

Any second now their wayward daughter/sister would arrive through those green flames and they'd finally be reunited at last. Henry looked towards Sirius and their family friend Remus Lupin … they were shuffling awkwardly as they waited; they were all nervous after all. Remus because she may not recognise him and possibly reject him when she found out that he was a Werewolf, Sirius because he remembered their last encounter, and the Potter Family because of how she might react to them after so long.

Amelia Bones and her entourage of Aurors were standing by for the formal greeting, as was customary for addressing a sanctioned Witch Hunter from the Monastery and a young Auror in training; Nymphadora Tonks Black was eagerly awaiting her fellow Black blooded relative. Due to being a Metamorphmagus and having the ability to alter her appearance at will currently had bright pink hair as she waited with her excitement shown on her face.

Accompanying Amelia that day was her niece Susan Bones … or just Sue for short. She was averagely tall for her age and had the curves that a teenage girl was growing into. She was a fit teenage girl that possessed red hair and aside from her creamy complexion, possessed warm and cheerful brown eyes. She and Henry were acquaintances but no more, as Henry was a Gryffindor and Susan was a Hufflepuff … they tolerated each other and as their families were united under the same banner on the Light Side.

In the end … they really had no choice but to get along.

The Floo Port suddenly flared to life and a young lady stepped through with no trouble at all, the grace that she portrayed was mystifying and held their entire attention … that was until some of the Aurors saw her face. At once they all drew their wands in defence as a young looking Bellatrix appeared before them.

Before they could stop him, Alastor "Made Eye" Moody had slammed his staff-wand into the ground and sent a nasty grey, borderline dark blasting hex at the Bellatrix look-a-like. The hex sailed through the air at terrifying speed, only for it to meet its end in a beautiful display of green fire that appeared and absorbed his spell.

"That wasn't very welcoming," Azalea chided. "Master Auror Moody."

"Grrr, I see you've found a way to escape Azkaban Bellatrix," Moody growled out in his mangled but deep voice.

The girl laughed in her musical tone, causing everyone to sigh in comfort. "I'm aware that I share an uncanny resemblance to Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black but fear not … I am not her. My name is Azalea Dorea Senna LeFay … though, from what I've been told I was formerly a Potter."

The Aurors gasped and immediately shifted their gazes to the Boy-Who-Lived … could it really be true? The Potter Family all nodded and Lily had tears appear in her eyes … her daughter was so beautiful.

Susan Bones stared at the young woman that was the same age as her … she was … _beautiful_ and her voice … oh, her voice was heavenly … she was perfect!

James Potter was in awe of his daughter, she'd become a stunning young woman despite her resemblance to Bella … she moved with a grace that even Purebloods would wish they possessed and the Aura that she radiated was enough to warn off many of the young Aurors-in-training … and her voice sent warm shivers down his spine; that voice should be illegal.

Henry couldn't help but question if the young woman was his sister; her very presence screamed _Pureblood_ and her voice was like velvet … the angel standing in front of him couldn't possibly be his sister.

Sirius looked to Remus with a smug look that said 'I told you so'. Remus hadn't believed him when he'd said that he'd found Azalea and about how she looked and sounded … it was no secret that Remus had possessed a minor crush on the Slytherin … as most boys did in Hogwarts. There were some that believed that Bellatrix was a Veela due to her infamous beauty and grace … and looking at the Werewolf now was almost amusing to the Black.

Remus stared at Azalea … his inner wolf all but demanding him to protect the girl in from of him … it was as if his inner wolf was calm in her presence and it was something that Moony (the inner wolf's codename) craved; to be at peace.

Azalea glanced to the various Aurors and people present, there were many people and all were staring at her as if she was a great mystery … it unnerved her to be honest but the red haired girl standing by Madam Bones radiated a friendliness that calmed her … a pity for her that that was all she saw in her – friend material.

"Well … as interesting as the gawking is," Azalea prompted, snapping everyone out of their dazes. "I believe that we have items that need to be addressed Madam Bones."

"Yes, I concur," Amelia responded. "You have wonderful manners but I grant you permission to address me as Amelia … should you so wish."

Susan shivered … this was her Aunt Amelia's test … respect and to see how they'd react with the choice.

"I thank you Madam Bones," Azalea replied in her musical tone, once again snaring some of the other occupants. "But I must insist on addressing you by your station and proper title."

Amelia smiled. "I like you," she then hesitated and glanced towards the Floo before re-addressing Azalea. "Where is Amon?"

Azalea flinched and her face morphed into a soft expression of sadness. "He passed on Madam Bones, just last night in fact … he's stepped through the Veil of Death and has been reunited with my mother Robin."

"I see … I apologise and offer my condolences Hunter Senna LeFay," Amelia responded with a sorrowful look on her face. "I will miss Amon … he was always a wonderful conversationalist … unlike his nephew Severus."

Those listening, particularly the Potters and Company all coughed in surprise … that explained the resemblance to Snape.

Azalea just tilted her head in question. "You are referring to Severus Snape? I was aware that Father had a blood relative left, but I have yet to meet my Uncle Severus."

"Save that for another time my dear," Amelia spoke. "We have much to discuss … my office is this way Hunter Senna LeFay."

Azalea just shook her head. "Lady LeFay is fine Madam Bones … now that my parents have both passed on; I am not a Hunter any longer. It was my parent's choice that I finish formal schooling before I make up my mind if I wished to continue being a true Hunter or not."

Amelia nodded thoughtfully and re-gestured to her office … Azalea took the hint and gracefully swept through the hallway towards the office, the Potter Family, Sirius, Remus and Moody all following … though Moody was far more cautious … they'd called her a Hunter and he had great respect for the Monastery but if this girl _was_ a Hunter; temporary or not … then it wasn't a fluke that she'd effortlessly dispersed his Blasting Hex … he'd have to watch her closely.

As they approached Madam Bone's office, Azalea swept her gaze over those present before her eyes landed on Remus. The action went noticed by all and they all paused as they watched the tense encounter. Remus wanted to flail at Azalea's gaze – Moony howling for Remus to submit to her. Whether Remus knew it or not, he subconsciously bared his throat to Azalea as a sign of submission, and Sirius had to physically stop himself from gasping.

The moment was shattered by Azalea as she spoke. "You suffer from Lycanthropy."

It was a statement, and those present were left speechless at how easily she discovered Remus' secret affliction.

"Y-Yes," Remus stuttered out – this was it … Azalea would reject him and he's be devastated. Moony was already howling – pounding in the depths of his mind to be free … it gave him headaches every time Moony acted out like that. Instead he was shocked when Azalea pressed a soft, delicate hand to his forehead. Moony instantly stilled and remained silent … for the first time in Remus' life … Moony was silent.

"You should learn to find harmony with your inner self," Azalea spoke soothingly. "Either find harmony … or seek me out to rid you of your curse."

There was a collective gasp at Azalea's declaration but only Remus managed to speak, well stutter. "E-Excuse me, c-can you r-repeat that?"

 **..::..**

 **Well, that's it. I finally completed the chapter, and boy was it longer than I thought it would be. Please let me know if I made any errors … and do so constructively. I've put up with enough shit from Guests and Members in regards to PMs or Flaming.**

 **AN1 – Picture the Citadel from Game of Thrones – where Sam goes to become a Maester.**

 **AN2 – I actually imagined a real life version of Jafar from Aladdin. =_=**

 **AN3 – Google Images – Witch Hunter Robin – Robin. It's her dress and coat that Azalea wears.**

 **AN4 – Galadriel's Ring from Lord of the Rings. It's actually named Nenya, and the description and titles come from the LOTR Wiki.**

 **..::..**

 **AS ALWAYS: PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!**

 **..::..**

 **\^o^/**


End file.
